


Visions of Twilight

by Carrie_Poppins



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Angst, Backstory, F/M, Headcanon, Mixed Lore, No Smut, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-04-24 06:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 46,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19167652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carrie_Poppins/pseuds/Carrie_Poppins
Summary: Link doesn't like to talk about what brought him to Ordon Village four years ago. In fact, the only person who knows the truth is his best friend, Ilia. But when history starts to repeat itself, he throws himself headlong into the fight, determined to prevent the past from stealing his future. Too late, he realizes that he is far out of his league.Teen for violence and PTSD themes, as well as themes involving sexual harassment.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of Zelda, nor any of its characters and content, however the backstories for many of the characters are my own ideas.

_     A bonfire. Pleasant laughter. Mother and Father. _

_     Something is wrong. Why am I the only one who can feel it? _

_     The fire is too big, and grows bigger. The laughter changes, becoming cruel and callous. There is a horn call off in the distance. Someone screams. I see their faces again, this time covered in blood. _

    I lurch awake in a cold sweat, gasping for breath. It takes me several minutes to remember where I am, lying on my bed while the moonlight falls across the quilt. Honestly, it takes a minute to remember  _ who _ I am, and the realization sends me kicking the quilt off of my legs and running out of the bedroom, dashing down the hall to the door at the very end. I hesitate, suddenly uncertain of what I’d been about to do. 

    Then I hear the muffled sob on the other side of the door, and I no longer have time to be afraid.

    His head snaps up as I step into the room, then he turns away just as quickly, his hand rising to wipe away the tears spilling down his cheeks. It’s more by instinct than choice that I find myself by his side, kneeling on the bed and pulling him into my arms so that he can hide his face against my shoulder. He stiffens, one hand rising to my arm as though to push it away, but then he hesitates, slowly relaxing against me, his grip shifting to hold me close, his other arm wrapping around my waist.

    “It’s okay,” I whisper. “Whatever happened before, you’re safe now. I promise. Nothing can hurt you here.” His grip tightens, and I know that he doesn’t quite believe me, but at least his breathing begins to settle, and the tears begin to slow.

    “Would you like to talk about it?” I ask, but I’m not very hopeful. After all, he hasn’t said a word to me, nor to anyone else, in the two weeks since he woke up.

    True to form, he shakes his head against my shoulder, but I’m glad that he doesn’t pull away. I suppose that after days of silence and averted eyes, I sort of count this as a personal victory: on some level, he finds comfort in this. Comfort in me. “Okay. I won’t force you. But whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m here. You can trust me.” I feel him hesitate, then nod slightly, acknowledging the words. 

    I hold him close for what feels like hours before a wide yawn takes me by surprise. I should probably head back to my room. Go to bed- 

    “Link.”

    “Hm?” I blink, pulling back slightly so that I can see his face.

    “My name,” he explains, glancing up at me with blue eyes still damp with tears. “It’s Link.”

    A slow smile spreads across my face. “I’m happy to meet you, Link. My name is Ilia.”

    He smiles too, then. A sad, almost shy smile that’s quickly hidden from my view as he presses his face against my shoulder once again, his other hand slipping from my arm and wrapping cautiously around my waist, holding me in place.

    “Would you like me to stay with you tonight, Link?” I ask, stroking his soft, blond hair. He nods again, and I smile, settling my cheek against the top of his head. 

    “Okay, then. I’ll stay.”


	2. Chapter One

     “Link?” 

     “Hm.”

     “Are you feeling alright?”

     “Yeah.”

     “You sure? You seem a bit… out of sorts.”

     “Of course.”

     “Really? Because you-”

     “Fado.”

     “Er, yes?”

     “Drop it.”

     “Er, yes.”

     I’m grateful when he doesn’t push the matter. Then again, Fado rarely pushes anything. He prefers to let someone else take the heat when at all possible. So although he and all the other farmhands may have noticed that I’m acting ‘out of sorts’ today, they all turn back to their various tasks without another word, leaving me in peace to continue milking. The goat I’m working with bleats, blinking a liquid eye in my direction as it turns its head to rub its circular horn against its leg. I manage a faint smile, pausing long enough to run a hand along the placid creature’s back. 

     Another hour passes before we’ve finished tending to the herd. Once I’ve pushed the last of the goats out into the pasture, I rise to my feet, stretching out the taut muscles in my back and shoulders. Without a word, I gather up two of the pails now filled with rich goat’s milk and head up towards the farmhouse. Fado takes one towards Sera’s store, and two other men pick up the last three buckets and trail after me. Another farmhand gathers up the loose wool brushed from the goats’ thick spring coats, piling it into baskets that will be brought to the house to be cleaned and spun into wool. The last of our number is already outside, herding the goats from horseback.

     Normally, I would join him once I had finished delivering the milk, but today is… unique.

     “Morning, Link!” calls a bright voice as we step up onto the porch. I glance up, meeting the smile in my best friend’s brilliant green eyes. I’ve never understood how she can be so energetic this early in the morning, especially considering how little she sleeps. Even so, I can’t help but smile back at her, nodding a greeting as she holds open the door for us. 

     “Ah! Good morning, you three!” 

     I switch my attention to the man sitting at the kitchen table, wiping his mouth on a napkin and setting it to the side of his empty plate. He is tall, heavily-built, bald with a rather ridiculous moustache that sticks out on either side of his lip. He wears a simple tunic with a decorative sash, sandals and the simple, wooden talisman carved with the symbol of the Ordon goat antlers that indicates his authority.

     “Good morning, Mayor Bo, sir,” one of my companions swallows nervously. As the mayor’s ward, I can get away with less formality, simply inclining my head to him as I place the pails of milk to one side. 

     “Ah, excellent,” the mayor enthuses, fluttering around the five pails. “I’ll get working on the cheese right away. Ilia dear, once you get new wool started, you will come join me to help with the butter, won’t you?”

     “Er,” Ilia glances towards me, her green eyes more than a little hesitant. “Father, you do remember what day it is, don’t you? And… mine and Link’s special request?”

     Mayor Bo blinks at us a few times, then his eyes go comically wide and he claps his hand against his forehead. “By the Goddesses, has it already been four years, my boy? Time certainly flies, doesn’t it? Of course, the two of you are excused from your duties for the rest of the day. Just be certain to travel safely. Stop by Rusl’s on the way, Link, he had something he wanted to give you, I believe.”

     I relax, the corners of my mouth pulling upwards. “Thank you, sir,” I murmur, bowing slightly.

     “Of course, of course, now off with you,” he waves us away. 

     Ilia and I exchange smiles, then she hurries to the counter, where I can see a huge knapsack bulging with food waiting for us. She snatches it up and swings it over her shoulder, then seizes my hand and yanks me out the back door, running down to the stables on the far side of the barn.

     We’re greeted by a bright whinny as a chestnut mare with a white mane, tail, and fetlocks tosses her head, regarding us with intelligent brown eyes. “Hey, Epona,” Ilia croons, reaching out to take the horse’s face in her hands, gently stroking her neck. “You ready, girl?”

     Epona snorts back, shivering as horses do, as though in affirmation. I chuckle as I pull her tack and saddle down from the wall. “Of course she’s ready. She may be a lady as you keep insisting, but that doesn’t mean she has to take as long as you do to tend her mane.”

     “Oh hush,” Ilia rolls her eyes at me. “ _ Her _ mane doesn’t turn into a frizzy mess every night. And anyway, I’m not that bad. You should see Ms. Sera; she literally takes hours to put herself together in the morning.”

     “I know. Whenever I make the milk delivery to her store, she sends Hanch to answer the door because she’s ‘not presentable yet’.”

     Ilia snickers. “I’m pretty sure she uses more makeup than the average court jester.”

     “Wouldn’t shock me.”

     We fall into a companionable silence as Ilia helps me to prepare the horse, feeding her oats and slipping the bit into her mouth while I toss the horse blanket over her back and belt the saddle into place, but I don’t miss the concerned glance that she shoots my way. Once we’re ready, I open the door of the stall and lead Epona into the larger central space of the barn. She whinnies again, tossing her head in excitement as I slip my foot into the stirrup and push myself upward, swinging my leg over her back. Once I’ve mounted and settled myself in the saddle, I extend a hand to Ilia.

     “Ready?”

     “Like you even have to ask,” she rolls her eyes in return, taking my hand and allowing me to help her climb up behind me, where she wraps her arms firmly around my waist and rests her chin on my shoulder so that she can see the path ahead.

     I hate to admit how quickly my heart races as her chest presses into my back. 

     Pushing such forbidden thoughts aside, I click my tongue to Epona, guiding her out of the barnyard and up the hill at a canter to the main road. A number of people glance up from their gardens and wave to us as we ride by, calling greetings to Ilia, seeing as how I rarely respond to anyone. 

     In my anticipation for what’s to come, I might have forgotten to stop by Rusl’s if Ilia hadn’t yelled hello to him, waving eagerly in the process. As it is, I have to pull the reins rather more sharply than normal to stop in time. 

     “Ilia! Link!” the swordsmith calls from his forge, waving cheerfully. 

     Ilia scrambles down from behind me even before Epona has reached a complete stop, stumbling when she hits the ground, then taking off at a run. “Hello! Father said you wanted to see us?”

     “That I did, Ms. Ilia, that I did. Hop on down Link, I have something for you. A bit of a thank you gift,” he chuckles, squeezing the bellows one last time before turning and walking to the corner of his shop. I swing down from Epona’s back as well, loosely tying her reins to the fence post before joining Ilia in the forge. 

     “The Mayor mentioned that the two of you would be out and about on your own today, yes?”

     “That’s right. It’s Link’s day off, you see,” Ilia smiled back, but I feel her surreptitiously slip her hand into mine, squeezing it gently in silent reassurance before pulling away again. 

     “Well then, this is perfectly timed. I have a little something here to make sure you can take care of yourselves,” Rusl replied, holding a burlap-wrapped item out to me. I’m not sure if it’s anticipation or dread that settles in my stomach as I accept the item, tugging the twine free and letting the cloth fall away to reveal a knife about the same length as my arm from the elbow to the tips of my fingers, with a leather-wrapped hilt and narrow guard. I catch my breath and Ilia’s eyes widen as I draw it from its sheath, noting the heavy blade, sharpened to perfection along both edges, the steel slightly blued. 

     My heart races for a few seconds before I remind myself where I am and what's happening around me.

     “Rusl… I can’t possibly accept this." A weapon of this quality, made by a swordsmith as well-known as Rusl, would cost hundreds of rupees, if not more.

     “Please, Link,” Rusl snorts, “you’ve more than earned it. I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you, what with all the work you’ve put in assisting me at the forge on your off-hours. It’s thanks to you that my weapons have improved as much as they have in the past four years.”

     “But sir-”

     “No, I’ll not have more of that from you. If you’re so concerned, then consider it four years worth of birthday gifts, alright?”

     I startle, staring at him for a few seconds, then turn to level a glower at Ilia. “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone,” I grumble.

     “I didn’t!” she protests immediately. “I promised you, didn’t I? I swear I haven’t said a word about it!”

     “I’m sorry, did I miss something?” Rusl frowns, glancing between us. I look towards him, at the confusion in his expression, then back to Ilia and the honesty and the genuine hurt in her green eyes. 

     I sigh, defeated. 

     “My birthday was last week.”

     “What?! Why would you keep something like that a secret, lad? How old are you?”

     “…Eighteen.”

     “The age of manhood! The village would have thrown a celebration had they known!”

     I wince, shrinking into myself. Once again, I feel Ilia step forward, gently taking my hand and pressing it slightly. “You know Link’s never been one for crowds, Rusl,” she smiles. “Big parties aren’t exactly his thing. So would you maybe let us keep this quiet?”

     “Well, if you insist. The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable, lad.”

     I manage to relax at that. “Thank you.”

     “Oh, and Link?” I cock my head at him, curious, but he hesitates, then shakes his head, smiling faintly. “Nevermind. I’ll ask the Mayor about it first. My little boy wanted me to be sure tell you 'hello' from him though. He thinks very highly of you. Now go and enjoy your day off.”

     I won’t deny that my curiosity has been piqued, but there are more pressing matters on my mind, so I simply return the knife to its sheath and tuck it through my sash. 

     "Thank you, Rusl," I murmur, lightly grasping the hilt. "And tell Colin I say 'hello' in return."

     “Of course I will, lad. Now off with you.” 

     I let Ilia pull me back to Epona, then we mount up and continue onward. I direct Epona quickly through the village, then turn her down the path into Faron Woods, giving the mare her head and urging her into a gallop as we break away from the houses. Ilia whoops excitedly, pressing herself into my back, her arms tightening around my middle. I smile, leaning even further over the mare’s neck, directing her with the barest of touches on the reins. Before long, we reach the bridge that marks the official border between the Ordona and Faron provinces and I gently ease Epona to a trot, guiding her through a wooden gate overgrown with flowers and into the clearing of the Ordona Spirit Spring. 

     I wait for Ilia to swing down first, then I follow just behind her. She sets down the knapsack while I loosen Epona’s saddle and close the gate so that she can wander as she wishes. When I turn back to Ilia, she’s already laid out a simple linen cloth with fresh rolls filled with wildberries and honey, with Ordon goat cheese to go with it.

     “Thanks, Ilia,” I say, sitting down across from her.

     “You’re welcome,” she replies softly, her expression soft, even concerned now that we’ve left Rusl and the village behind. “How are you holding up?”

     “…I’ll be okay.”

     “Are you sure?”

     “As sure as I can be.”

     "Okay…"

     “Maybe this will be good for me. I mean, the whole point of this is to finally face my fear, right?”

     “I guess…"

     Ilia doesn’t sound convinced, but I force a smile anyway. "Anyway, what about you? How are you doing?"

     She hesitates, chewing the inside of her lip, but she’s never been able to lie to me, much as I’ve never been able to lie to her. “I’m still having nightmares,” she admits softly. “They’re getting more vivid. More intense. But it's weird. These dreams, they don't really make  _ sense _ . I mean, I recognize the bulblins from what you’ve described to me, so I know those are real, but then there are also these other grotesque black monsters with really long arms everywhere too, like giant black monkeys wearing glowing red masks - stop laughing, they're scary! - and then there's something wrong with the sky."

     "Wrong how?"

     "It's like… it's like there's a permanent sunset. Like time never moves forward."

     “How often do you get them?"

     "Three or four times a week usually."

     "The last time they happened that often, it was before you found me, right?"

     "Yeah. Pretty ridiculous, right? Thinking that these dreams might come true when monsters like that can't possibly be real. It's not really anything that I should lose sleep over."

     "Speaking of, how much sleep do you get every night?"

     She hesitates, then takes another bite of her roll, chewing slowly, stalling for time. "Maybe four or five hours?" 

     "Ilia-"

     "No. Don't you do that song and dance with me. We've already talked about this; there's  _ nothing _ that you can do to fix this, and there's nothing I can do either. I'll get by. I always have. And anyway, today's about you, not me." She shoves the last bite into her mouth and scrambles to her feet, brushing off her trousers. "So, shall we keep going?"

     I blink up at her, then sigh, rising to my feet as well, but catching her shoulder as she starts to gather up the linen and knapsack. "Just don't push yourself too hard, okay?"

     "You don't have to worry about me, Link. I can take care of myself," she laughs gently.

     I shake my head at her, but leave it there, walking over to where Epona drinks deeply from the spring. Within a few minutes, I've readied her for travel once more, and Ilia has the knapsack back over her shoulder. Together we mount, and together we ride across the bridge into Faron Woods.

     This section of our journey passes mostly in silence, but by the way Ilia's arms tighten around me, I know that she is thinking about the same thing I am. Anxiety starts to pool in my stomach as flashbacks to that terrible night seem to leap out of the shadows between the trees. I breathe deeply, biting the inside of my lip and concentrating on the feel of Ilia's arms and the movement of Epona's body to remind me where, and more importantly  _ when _ , I am. 

     “Link?”

     “Yeah?”

     “Do you need me to take the reins?”

     “…No. I’ll be fine.”

     Her hand rises to my shoulder, squeezing it gently, but she doesn’t press the matter. She knows me too well to insist. Instead, she wraps her arms around me again and presses her cheek against my back, silently reassuring me that she’s there. 

     The trees are thinning out when I pull back on the reins some four hours later. The anticipation is stifling, the dread causing nausea to swirl in my stomach. My breath catches in my throat as I feel Ilia’s hand on mine, and realize that she’s already dismounted. It’s only then that I notice I’m shaking, my breath coming in short, quick bursts. Ilia smiles encouragingly, but I can see the worry in the crease of her eyebrows. 

     “Just breathe, Link,” she says softly. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

     It takes a lot more effort than I thought it would to draw a full breath. As a matter of fact, it takes several attempts before I manage it. Cautiously, with Ilia’s gentle encouragement, I climb down from Epona’s back, and she tucks herself under my arm, offering physical support as well as emotional. 

     “Was… Was it here?” I whisper.

     “More or less. Are you sure you want to do this?”

     “I have to do it, Ilia.”

     “You have nothing to prove to me, you know.”

     “I know. I just… need to face it.”

     “…Okay.”

     Together we step forward, and together we step out of the treeline into the sudden explosion of sunlight. Together we lower the hands from our eyes, and together take in the vast expanse of green and gray, extending for miles in each direction, towards the distant mountains that mark Eldin Province, and the more forested plateaus of Lanayru. Together we step out of the shadow of the forest and feel the sun beat down on our faces and a cool breeze whip through the grass.

     Goddesses, why won’t my heart stop racing? Why is my breathing picking up?

     Alone, I see the plains’ dance grow more frantic. Alone, I feel the sunlight morph into flames. Alone, I see the sky darken.

     Alone I hear the screams. 

_ The houses are on fire. I see the sparks fly into the darkening sky. _

_      Father seizes my shoulders, yelling at me to run. He grabs a sword and half-runs, half-limps towards one of the giant boars. _

_      I hear the laughter. I see the spray of blood catch the dying light. _

_      I hear my own voice screaming. _

_      I run. _

_      I grab someone’s hand and pull them through the grass.   _

_      What am I doing? Where can we possibly go? _

_      Where’s mother? _

_      Something wraps around my ankle and yanks and we both fall. _

_      Someone seizes my arm. _

_      Somewhere, I hear a girl crying.  _

_      Somehow, I have to get away. _

_      I have to get away. _

_      I have to get… _

_      I have to… _

_      I have… _

_      I…  _

     “…nk… Link!” 

     I flail, my eyes flying open, gasping like a landed fish. A pair of hands grip mine. A pair of thumbs rub circles against my knuckles. A pair of green eyes bore into mine. 

     “Link, I need you to breathe. Come on, you can take it slow; just breathe with me. In. Out. In. Ou-”

     “I… c-can’t. I… can’t-”

     “Yes, you can. You’re doing great, just keep trying. Here, put your hand on my waist. Can you feel me breathing? Follow that pattern. In… two… three. Out… two… three. In… two… three. Out… two… three. In…”

     I don’t know how long I sit there, my back against the bole of a tree, Ilia kneeling in front of me, her voice washing over me like the cadence of a river. I close my eyes and focus on her voice, and slowly, far too slowly, I feel myself settling. I’m definitely still shaking, and I know that I’m way more tense than I should be, but at least I can breathe again. Suddenly exhausted, I slump forward, my forehead falling against her chest, my hands sliding up to grip her shoulder blades. I hear her squeak and feel her tense, then she relaxes and crawls even closer, wrapping her arms loosely around my neck and rubbing one hand slowly up and down my back. 

     “It’s okay,” she whispers. “You’re okay.”

     But it’s not okay. It’ll never be okay. What in Farore’s name was I thinking? What was I trying to prove by coming here? That I’m not afraid of my past? That I don’t miss them every day? That I don’t wonder what I could have done differently to save them?

     That I don’t blame myself for surviving when all of them are as good as dead?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the awkward switch in viewpoints between the prologue and chapter one. From here on out, we will be seeing things from Link's point of view.


	3. Chapter Two

    “I’m sorry.”

    “You have nothing to apologize for.”

    “I’m still sorry.”

    “Then stop.”

    “But -”

    “Link. Stop apologizing. _I_ was the one who insisted on coming, remember?”

    “…Okay.”

    “Good boy.”

    I hear the grin in Ilia’s voice, and manage to muster up a smile of my own at the old joke between us. “I’m not a dog, you know.”

    “But you’d be such a cute dog!” Ilia giggles, pulling out of our embrace slightly to meet my eyes. “I bet you’d be the kind that’s super defensive and leaps in front of his owner every time he sensed danger, but at the same time jumped and ran away every time he heard a loud noise.”

    “Well now, isn’t that a flattering description,” I grumble, unable to help the blush that touches my cheeks, and not just from her commentary.  

    Now that I’ve somewhat regained control of myself, I can’t help but grow increasingly aware of the intimacy of our position. Ilia kneels between my legs, practically chest to chest with me, her arms still draped around my shoulders. Her face - and her beautiful green eyes - is only inches from mine, and my hands still rest on her waist, just above her hips.

    I quickly pull them away.

    “We should probably start back,” I mumble, avoiding her eyes.

    Her expression instantly morphs from amusement to concern as she searches my face. “If that’s what you think is best,” she replies eventually, pushing herself to her feet.

    I immediately find myself breathing a little easier.

    She extends a hand to me, and I allow her to pull me upright and guide me back into the forest. Epona knickers a greeting to us as we approach, at which point Ilia slips her hand free of mine and hurries forward to adjust the stirrups, leveling a glare at me when I open my mouth to protest.

    I close it without a word.

    She hands the knapsack off to me, then pulls herself into the saddle and waits for me to mount behind her. I let my mind go blank as we ride, Ilia guiding Epona back along the path. It's not until almost an hour later that I realize we aren't traveling the same route we'd arrived by.

    "Ilia? Where are we going?"

    "To our picnic spot, of course."

    "Picnic?"

    "Come on, you didn't think I'd let your birthday pass by without a word, did you? It took almost three years just for you to tell me the date! If you're not going to let me spoil you in public, then I'm at least going to spoil you in private," she calls, flashing a grin over her shoulder.

    “Ilia-”

    “Nope! No arguing. I’m the one with the reins, remember?”

    I blink, then chuckle softly, leaning in to press my mouth close to her ear. “Thank you,” I murmur. Her cheeks go slightly pink, but she smirks just the same.

    We reach our destination shortly after that. Ilia has directed Epona to the Faron Spirit Spring, deep within the forest. It really is beautiful, the water welling up and spilling over the rocks into a larger pool at the base. Rivulets scatter from here through the entire forest, growing into streams and rivers, like the one that has cut a canyon between Faron and Ordona. Legend says that the water from the four Springs is the very lifeblood of the nation of Hyrule, and all of the rivers that flow from them contain the power of the Goddesses themselves. I don’t know if I believe that or not, but there is a certain sense of peace around the Springs that I haven’t felt anywhere else, and it’s no secret that the villages that crop up close to these water sources seem to be more successful than others, but who’s to say if that’s actually because of the blessing of the Goddesses?

    “Ready for lunch?” Ilia grins as we dismount. I smile and pass the knapsack back to her, tending to Epona while she lays things out. “You can go ahead and rub her down; we’re going to be here for a bit!”

    “Alright.”

    As instructed, I remove Epona’s saddle and blanket, taking my time caring for her as Ilia readies everything. When I turn around, she’s grinning like the cat that got the canary, sitting by the linen cloth, laid out with honey-glazed salmon over fresh greens, fresh apples, and even a pumpkin pie.

    “Ilia, how did you-?”

    “Why do you think the pack was so bulky? I had to put everything in earthenware and stack it _just so_ to make sure that nothing would spill.”

    I can’t help but laugh. “You were serious about spoiling me.”

    “ _Duh_. You’re my best friend! Now let’s eat; I’m starving!”

    We spend the rest of the afternoon there, eating, talking, laughing, even getting into a water fight. By the time the sun starts to set, we’ve taken to sitting quietly by the edge of the pool, our sandals set aside to dry, Ilia almost dozing as her head leans against my shoulder, one of her hands playing absentmindedly with the longer strand of hair at the base of her neck. She pauses, staring skyward as the last flash of sunlight disappears behind the trees, her green eyes clouded and distant.

    “Have you ever felt a strange sadness as dusk falls? They say it’s the only time when our world intersects with theirs. The only time we can feel the lingering regrets of the spirits that have left our world, and that’s why loneliness always pervades the hour of twilight…” I watch her, curious, as she drifts into silence, her hand falling away from her hair. Then the clarity suddenly returns and she startles, gaping up at the sky as though she’s never seen it before. “Goddesses, when did it get so late?! We have to get back!” she cries, springing to her feet and rushing to grab her sandals. After my initial surprise, I can’t help but laugh at her reaction, rising to my feet as well and dusting off my trousers. While she scrambles to gather up our picnic things, I resaddle Epona, then I take the reins once more as we head back into town.

    When we arrive, it’s become fully dark. We ride straight to the barn, where Ilia helps me to care for Epona and put away her tack and saddle. Then the two of us hurry up the hill to the farmhouse, slipping in through the back door, where we are confronted by a very agitated father.

    “There the two of you are! I thought I said to be back by dusk; you had me worried sick!”

    “Sorry, Father,” Ilia cringes. “We were by the Faron Spirit Spring and lost track of time.”

    He huffs irritably, but his expression does soften at the mention of the Spring. “So then, I suppose that you’re both hungry?”

    Ilia and I both perk up at the mention of food. We take a seat at the larger dining room table, and her father serves us deep platters of pumpkin soup with large chunks of bread, each coated with a fresh slab of goat cheese.

    “So how was your day?” the mayor grunts, sitting at the head of the table.

    “It was good. We got all the way to Hyrule Fields, beyond the forest…”

    I eat in silence, content to let Ilia talk. I’m grateful that she glosses over the events surrounding my flashback. Even though her father is familiar with my occasional… _attacks_ , I’ve never told him the details of how I came to be lying at the entrance of Faron Woods that day four years ago.

    Only Ilia knows the whole truth.

    Before too much longer, Ilia starts to yawn widely - not surprising considering how much sleep she gets. Her father sends her to bed shortly after, and she nods blearily as she stands up. “Night, Father. Night, Link,” she yawns again, heading to her bedroom in the back.

    I watch her go, smiling faintly in response.

    “This actually works rather well.” I blink, turning towards Mayor Bo, quirking my eyebrow at him. “I had wanted to speak with you alone at some point this evening. Rusl came by earlier today. I see you got his gift,” he smiles, nodding at my waist.

    I glance down towards the knife tucked through my sash. I’d almost forgotten about that. I gently tug it free, laying it on the table, turning it slowly in the lamplight. The first weapon that I've owned in years. It took over a year just to be able to handle a bread knife without spiraling into a panic attack. I guess maybe I have improved, even if the events of this afternoon were discouraging.

    “He wanted to ask a favor of you," Mayor Bo continues, unaware of my inner dialogue, "but he wanted to clear it with me, first. As you may know, about this time of year, every village in Hyrule is required to deliver its taxes and tribute to Hyrule Castle. This year, Rusl made a sword to the specifications of the royal family to be delivered as the tribute. He was going to deliver the weapon himself, but with Uli so close to delivering their baby, he wanted to ask if you would be willing to take the tribute in his stead?”

    I glance up at him rather sharply, feeling the muscles in my shoulders instantly grow tense. Go to the capital? Travel through Hyrule Fields?

    "I know that it's a lot to ask of you, traveling alone across the country, but there really is no one else for the job. You're a capable rider, and a capable fighter. You know how to take care of yourself in the Fields. And I trust you. Would you do it?"

    He wants me to go _alone?_ Can I do that? My eyes drop to the table, and I find myself very interested in studying an intricate knot in the wood.

    "Link?"

    I release a slow breath. "Can I have a night to think about it?"

    "Of course. Just give me your answer sometime tomorrow."

    I nod, then rise to my feet. He understands the silent request and waves me off to bed, smiling in a fatherly way. I dip my head in thanks and slip out of the kitchen, heading for my little bedroom at the top of the house.

    When Ilia and her father first found me at the edge of Faron Woods, they took me to their home and put me up in the guest bedroom on the main floor. Their intention was to let me stay until I had recovered, then help me to get home once I was well enough to travel. But soon Ilia realized that I had no home, so instead she pulled me up to their attic and insisted that I help her turn it into a permanent space for me. Together we cleaned the room and cleared out the junk, and her father helped me to make shelves and a bedframe while Ilia wove a new quilt for the bed.

    I earned my keep working the ranch, and pocket money doing odd jobs around the village. Once my nightmares had started to settle, I’d started helping Rusl at the forge. It was hard, to be so close to the open flames and naked blades and to hear the ring and crash of metal on metal; the first day I'd come home and barricaded myself in my room to have a panic attack in peace. Not that Ilia had been fooled. Somehow, she'd managed to figure out exactly what was going on and before I knew it, she was rocking me in her arms as I cried myself to sleep.

    I sigh wearily as I change into my nightclothes. Well, that’s a question for tomorrow. For now, I should sleep.

* * *

    It's the sudden clatter downstairs that awakens me, startling my eyes open and setting my heart racing as some residual instinct sends me reaching for the knife I placed on the dresser. I remain stock still for a few seconds, listening with no small sense of urgency for any hint as to who may have invaded our home. I get my answer about a minute later when I hear a timid knock against the bottom of the ladder.

    “Ilia?” I call, tossing back the quilt and rising to my feet. I frown when I hear the sharp intake of breath down below and quickly kneel at the edge by the ladder, peering down at the vaguely moonlit figure at the base.

    Ilia stands in her nightdress with her head bowed, clutching the ladder in a vice-like grip, her other hand pressed either to her chest or her mouth; I can’t tell for certain from this angle. A frown touches my lips and I glance towards the window and the position of the moon. It’s probably about four in the morning. I look back down, then sigh. I suppose I have to be up in an hour anyway.

    “Stay there. I’ll be down in a moment.”

    I wait until I see her nod, then take a step back and change into my tunic and trousers, quickly pulling on my sandals and tying my sash around my waist. After a moment’s hesitation, I tuck my new knife into the sash and climb down the ladder to where Ilia awaits, fidgeting with the fabric of her dress. The moment I’ve reached the floor, she steps forward, slipping her arms around my waist and burying her face in my chest. I freeze, caught off guard for a few seconds before I wrap her in a cautious hug.

    “What’s wrong?” I whisper. She shakes her head silently, but I can feel her trembling. “Another nightmare?” A pause, and then a reluctant nod. “I see.”

    I don’t ask, and she doesn’t tell. I just hold her until she’s stopped shaking and a wide yawn forces her to lean away. I manage a faint smile.

    “Do you think you can go back to bed now?”

    “…Yeah.”

    “Do you want me to stay with you?”

    Ilia hesitates, then reluctantly shakes her head. “I won’t ever grow if I keep relying on you, will I?” she smiles, glancing up at me. I can’t help but notice that it doesn’t reach her eyes, but I return the expression just the same.

    “Sleep well, okay?”

    “You too.” I hide a smirk as she pulls away, then openly grin when she pauses, her brows furrowing before she drops her head into her hands. “Oh Goddesses, I really need sleep,” she groans.

    I just chuckle and head outside, stepping into the night. I breathe deeply of the cool air and glance up at the moon, beginning to dip below the treeline.

_I won’t ever grow if I keep relying on you._

Hm…

    I’m a little early getting to the barn and starting on the milking, but I don’t mind. It gives me time to think before Fado and the others arrive. I need to decide what answer I'm going to give to the mayor.

    Even though I had an attack yesterday, it was my first in over three months. Perhaps even more significantly, yesterday was the first time in four years that I'd actually made it all the way through Faron Woods. Even if the prospect of making this trip to the capital terrifies me, maybe it's the next step to help me move forward. After all, even though being in the forge with Rusl had initially given me attacks every time I went, the sense of normalcy that it brought - being around and messing with weapons, remembering how my father would explain the difference between a well-balanced blade and a poor one - was incredible. Maybe going back to my birthplace will be what I need to ground me.

    Even if I have to go alone. Perhaps _especially_ if I have to go alone.

_I won’t ever grow if I keep relying on you._

    Ilia's right. I've depended on her for everything these past four years. She's always been at my side, holding my hand, walking me through the pain. I know she'll always be there for me, just as I'll always be there for her, but she isn't my crutch. She's my friend, and friends need to learn to live apart from one another.

    "Oh! Morning, Link," Fado calls with some surprise as he enters the barn. I wave briefly in response, then return to milking, and to thinking. I talk myself from one side of the matter to the other, so lost in thought that it catches me off guard when the entire herd has been cared for and sent out to pasture.

    I saddle up Epona and direct her into the pasture, trying to push my musings out of the forefront of my thoughts for the moment. Much more of this and Fado and the others are going to ask me if I’m feeling ‘out of sorts’ again. I roll my neck in an effort to get the tension out of my shoulders, then drop the reins momentarily as I stretch my arms over my head, guiding Epona with my knees instead.

    “Ooh!”

    I startle, glancing towards the fence, where a small group of children has gathered, most of their eyes trained on the eldest, a girl with sandy blond hair named Beth. She has one hand pressed over her mouth, a faint blush touching her cheeks; obviously she was the one who made that noise, and feels embarrassed at having been noticed. Her cousin, a little boy named Talo, is turned towards her, obviously teasing her as he grins, poking her in the ribs with a wooden sword. Curious, I urge Epona in their direction.

    “…just admit it!” Talo snickers, still poking her.

    “I told you no!” Beth squeaks back.

    “L-Leave her alone, Talo,” mumbles another boy, his hands clasped behind his back, his toe digging a hole in the hillside, his blue eyes downcast.

    “Aw lay off, Colin. You’ve got no right to talk back to me when you can’t even hit the broad side of a barn.”

    “To be fair, he wasn’t really trying to hit anything,” the fourth child pipes up, a serious, chubby boy with his hair tied directly on the top of his head.

    “Don’t you start, Malo! Someone too scared to fire a slingshot can never be a warrior!”

    “What’s all this about?”

    The children jump at the sound of my voice, whirling to face me. “Link!” Talo cries excitedly, waving his wooden sword in hello. “We were just coming by to watch you work! And to ask if maybe you could show us some sword tricks later?”

    I feel my stomach clench sharply at his request. I quietly dismount, mulling over how to answer him. “I’m going to be working all day,” I say eventually, leaning against the fence. Talo just tilts his head at me, his green eyes still expectant. I sigh, mustering up the will and the words to explain. “I can’t tonight. I’ll be busy.”

    Well, so much for that.

    “Tomorrow then?”

    “…We’ll see.”

    “Yay!” Talo whoops, brandishing the sword dangerously close to my face as he dances on the spot, while Malo’s eyes gleam and Beth squeals, bouncing on her toes. I resist the urge to sigh, fighting to ignore the uncomfortable lead feeling in my gut. Talo and his buddies have been pushing me to show them ‘sword tricks’ ever since they caught me messing with one of Rusl’s new swords a few months ago. I won’t deny that it makes me nervous, seeing how eager he is, how eager all of them are, over the idea of battle. I suppose I can’t be too shocked; I was the same way at their age.

    It took a nightmare to wake me up to reality.

    “Of course, _you_ probably shouldn't come, Colin." Talo's voice snaps me back to the present, causing me to glance towards the painfully shy blond boy. “I mean, since you can’t be a _warrior_ if you’re too scared to touch a sword.”

    “Warriors aren’t just swordsmen, Talo,” I interrupt sharply before I’m able to check myself. Goddesses, why do people see such glory in killing?

    The boy’s head snaps towards me, his eyes wide with surprise. “They aren’t?”

    I nod, forcing myself to calm down. “There are lots of ways to protect people without a sword. What’s important is that you want to help people.”

    Talo nods slowly, chewing his lip, tapping his sword against his shoulder. “Well, I want to help people with my sword, so I should probably go back to practicing. Bye Link! We’ll see you tomorrow! Come on, guys!” He scampers away, closely followed by Malo and Beth, the latter of whom casts one last smile over her shoulder at me before racing after the boys. Once only Colin and I remain, the boy sighs shakily, shooting me a weak smile.

    “Thanks. Those guys are always teasing me. What’s so fun about swinging swords around, anyway? I hate it; it’s scary.”

    “You’re right,” I sigh, watching them go, “it is scary.”

    Colin glances up at me, his eyes wide and confused. “But Link, you’re not scared of anything.”

    I allow myself a humorless chuckle. “Of course I’m scared.”

    “But you're a warrior. And Talo says that you can’t be a warrior if you’re scared!”

    I ponder that statement for a moment, then I crouch down so I can look Colin in the eye. “I’m going to tell you something that my father told me a long time ago. Warriors aren’t people who are never afraid. Warriors are people who can set aside fear to protect others.”

    “I… I don’t think I understand.”

    “When Talo was teasing Beth before, and you asked him to stop, were you afraid?”

    “Y-Yes.”

    “So why did you do it?”

    “Because… Because I wanted to help her.”

    I smile. “Exactly. And that makes you a warrior, because you protected someone, even when you were scared.”

    Colin looks up at me, his blue eyes wide. Then a shy smile touches his mouth. “When I grow up…” he pauses and averts his eyes, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “When I grow up, I wanna be just like you, Link.”

    I blink at him, a flustered smile touching my mouth as I reach up to tousle his hair, but I can’t come up with anything to say. He blushes pink and glances away, fidgeting with his tunic.

    “Link! Can you lend us a hand here?”

    I straighten up and glance back towards the top of the hill, where Fado stands with one hand still cupped around his mouth to aid in the projection of sound while the other arm waves to catch my attention. I briefly wave back, then glance towards Colin one last time.

    “Guess that’s my cue,” I say, mounting Epona once again.

    The child instinctively steps back from the fence, waving shyly as I wheel her around. "Bye, Link," he calls softly.

    I flash him a quick smile before I spur Epona up the hill, leaving Colin unaware of the muddle of thoughts that he's left me in.

     _You can’t be a warrior if you’re scared._

     _Warriors are people who can set aside fear to protect others._

     _You're a warrior._

    Resolve settles in the pit of my stomach.

    I know what I’m going to tell the mayor tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not always going to update this frequently, but I started this story on another site already, so I'm a few chapters ahead. Hope you enjoy!


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I imagine the little lullaby in the beginning to the tune of Ilia's Theme.

    “Evening Link,” Ilia smiles up from the fire as I step into the kitchen, gently tapping a wooden ladle against the edge of the pot she’d been stirring. I nod to her, flashing a quick smile before stepping into the next room.

    “Link! Welcome home, my boy,” the mayor beams at me as I step inside, glancing up from where he’s setting the table.

    I take a deep breath.

    “I’ll do it.”

    “Hm?”

    “I’ll take the tribute to Hyrule Castle.”

    He blinks at me a couple of times, then beams. “Well now, I am glad to hear that. You’re certain you want to? You’re not just feeling obligated to take the task?”

    I nod. “I won’t ever grow if I keep relying on all of you.”

    The mayor chuckles, nodding enthusiastically. “Certainly true, my boy. Now come sit down, the food is ready. Ilia! Ilia?” Silence rings through the house as he waits for an answer. I hesitate, uncertain, as he frowns, glancing first into the kitchen, and then heading down the hallway towards her bedroom. He comes back looking more puzzled than ever. “She was here just a few minutes ago. Where could she have gone…?”

    I frown, then return to the back porch, gazing about in the early-evening light. I almost turn around and head back in when I notice a flicker of movement by the barn, and then on the other side I catch sight of a chestnut horse with a white-clad rider, galloping across the pasture towards the Faron border.

    Did she hear me?

    “Don’t wait for us!” I call over my shoulder before closing the door and jumping the railing of the porch and jogging after her, but I'm in no great hurry.

    I’m fairly certain that I know where she's headed.

* * *

_“Sunlight fades, shadows fall, the Twilight hour draws near. Spirits come out to dance, amidst those living here. Don’t you cry, child of mine, don’t you cry or fear. Though spirits come out to dance, they cannot touch us here.”_

    The final notes of the old lullaby fade into silence just as I step through the gate of the Ordona Spirit Spring, replaced by the gentle flow of the waterfall into the pool and Epona’s soft whinny. Ilia stands beside the mare, bare-footed, her white tunic soaked in water, stiffly running a horsebrush across her back. Even in the diminishing light, I can tell that her shoulders are unusually tense.

    "You know, that song was the first thing I heard when I woke up four years ago. It always makes me think of you."

    Her hand goes still, her head dipping forward, hiding her face from me. "I… didn't expect you," she says, her voice carefully controlled.

    "I figured when I saw you ride off." I watch as her hand starts moving again in slow, rhythmical strokes, still stubbornly turned away from me. "Ilia, what's wrong?"

    "Nothing. Why?"

    "Well among other things, that might be the shortest answer you've ever given me."

    Another pause. "It's nothing that concerns you."

    "Then why won't you look at me?" I challenge.

    "Please, Link. I don't want to talk about it."

    "I think you're the one who told me that it's when you don't want to talk that you need to talk the most."

    "…I hate it when you throw my own words back at me."

    "I know."

    Another long pause. Another tense silence. She still refuses to look at me. It's almost as though she's afraid of what she might see. I glance skyward. It's almost twilight.

    "I…"

    My head snaps back towards her, towards where she shifts uncomfortably, her jaw shifting as she chews the inside of her lip, the way she always does when she's thinking. "I heard you talking to father," she says quietly. Her voice seems oddly tight, but maybe I'm imagining it? "It's just… It's dumb. My own insecurities, I guess. I just… don't like the idea of you going off alone."

    "Don't you trust me?"

    "Of course I trust you! But your flashbacks… I worry about you. I worry about what will happen while you're on your own. I know you can take care of yourself, but I… I just… if you get hurt, I…"

    I can hear the tears in her voice now. I step into the Spring, close enough to see that her hand is too tight on the horsebrush, her posture far too rigid, her eyes too determinedly averted from mine. "Ilia?" I gently lay my hand on her shoulder.

    She flinches.

    Then abruptly she whirls around, drops the horsebrush, and throws her arms around my neck. I stumble as her weight catches me off guard, but it doesn’t take long to regain my balance and wrap my arms firmly around her, holding her close, allowing her to tuck her head in the hollow underneath my chin.

    “This isn’t just about the flashbacks, is it,” I murmur. She shakes her head, and I feel her tears dripping onto my chest. “Is it about your nightmare last night?” She hesitates, then nods. “What did you see?”

    “…I saw you.”

    “And?”

    “You died.”

    I stiffen, an involuntary shiver rising up my spine, my heartrate suddenly accelerating. I force myself to relax, to breathe normally. “What happened?” I ask slowly. “Can you remember?”

    “I… I don’t know. I didn’t see details. I just saw your body covered in blood.”

    “…I see.” I tighten my grip around her, cradling her to my chest. Her arms slide down from my neck, her fingers curling in my shirt. "You're sure it wasn't a memory? From the day you found me?"

    She nods. "There was water. I don't remember why or where, but it had turned red." Her hands tighten and she presses a little closer. “I just… I can’t lose you,” she whispers. “I _can’t_. And that dream… it felt so much more real than the others.” She’s trembling. Every breath rattles in her throat.

    I don’t know how to do this. Ilia’s always been the strong one, the brave one. She’s always been the one to walk _me_ through _my_ attacks. I don’t know how to handle this in reverse. I don't know how to tell her it wasn't real, to reassure her that I'm fine, that no matter what happens, I won't allow myself to get hurt. So I just hold her. I hold her until the trembling eases and she manages to steady her breathing and she whispers my name.

    "Link?"

    "Yeah?"

    "You have to go, don't you."

    "Probably."

    "Then, can you promise me something?"

    "Anything."

    "No matter what happens on your journey, don’t try to do anything… out of your league. Please. Just come home safely."

    I smile, squeezing her gently.

    I never get a chance to promise, though, because in that moment an ear-splitting _CRACK!!_ fills the air, causing my head to snap up towards the hole that has appeared in the sky.

     _What the-?_

    Ilia goes stiff, clutching even more tightly at my clothes. When I glance down, her eyes have gone wide in abject horror.

    "Run," she whispers.

    "Ilia?"

    "Run!"

    Epona suddenly rears back, a panicked neigh splitting the air as she prances in agitation, forcing us to stumble back from her. Ilia seizes my hand and yanks me towards the open gate as I glance up to where the strange funnel in the sky has begun to glow with red markings, and all around us shadows appear to be falling to the ground and taking solid form.

    Ilia stops so suddenly that I run straight into her, my head snapping forward to where a veil of smoke seems to lift off of a massively built, green-skinned figure with massive horns curling up from his temples and glowing, reddish eyes, clad in full battle armor, wearing a massive broadsword across his back, sitting astride a huge, red-eyed boar with viciously long horns and fang-like teeth.

    My breath hitches sharply and my pulse spikes.

     _Goddesses above. Oh Farore, please, no._

    A broad, terrible grin splits the monster's face as he reaches back towards the hilt of his sword. "Our first catch of the night!" he barks, and I flinch, staring wildly at the other boar-riders and bulblin foot soldiers that have appeared around us as I hear the answering cacophony of laughter. "And one of 'em is a _pretty_ thing, ain't she?"

    Something hot and heavy flares in my gut, somehow both increasing and stabilizing the panic closing off my throat. "Stay away from her," I snarl, pulling Ilia tightly against my side, my hand dropping instinctively to the hilt of the dagger that Rusl gave me. She presses into me, white as a sheet, her eyes wild. The slaver's eyes widen, and another guffaw erupts from his throat.

   "Ooh, a li'l _hero_."

    I instinctively back away as the bulblin swings ponderously down from his mount and draws his sword.

    My breath picks up. The blood roars in my ears.

     _I've got to run._

    My feet are leaden weights. Water sloshes around my ankles. Someone clings to my arm. The sword glints in the last flash of sunlight, throwing sparks in the air.

_Run!!!_

    The sword comes down.

    Suddenly Rusl's dagger is in my left hand as I rush forward, narrowly dodging his first strike and slashing towards the bulblin's neck, forcing him to dart back to avoid the blow. For such a massive creature, he's surprisingly quick on his feet.

     _When you have a shorter weapon, get in close. That will lessen the advantage of his extra leverage and reach._

    I charge again, trading a plan for sheer speed and ferocity. My opponent's expression shifts into a snarl as he is forced to go on the defensive, but I know that I can't keep this up; I can already feel my breath growing ragged.

     "Go, Ilia!" I shout at the girl still sprawled in the Spring where I shoved her, staring at me with something between awe and horror. Her mouth snaps closed and she scrambles upright and I turn my attention back to my opponent, flipping my grip on the knife so I can brace it against my forearm, deflecting another strike before darting in and slashing upwards, only for my strike to skate off the bulblin's plate armor.

    A defiant shriek and a coarse laugh send me spinning around once again, my heart in my mouth and my blood running cold. Another slaver has his arms around Ilia’s torso, pinning her arms to her sides and lifting her above the water, leaning back to avoid her thrashing limbs.

    Her mouth opens to scream as his hand gropes her chest, but the blood howling in my ears is too loud for me to hear it.

    He flinches as I practically materialize next to him, seizing the end of the horn curling from his temple to hold him firmly in place as I step behind him and bring my dagger down in a swift, savage strike.

    My heart is pounding.

    My breaths come as heavy pants.

    Blood splatters across my tunic and my arm and drips from the point of my dagger.

    Ilia kneels in the water, her gaze fixated on the edge of the Spring where the bulblin’s body lies, his life blood spilling from the deep wound exactly at the spot where his neck joins his shoulder, where his leather armor is weakest.

    Her hand is pressed over her mouth.

    Her face is as pale as death.

    Her eyes have shattered.

    But she’s alive.

    “I told you to stay away from her,” I snarl, brandishing my weapon at the circle of monsters.

    Something in their expressions has changed. They no longer look at me with disdain. They look at me with anger. Anger and… could that be fear? Several of them glance towards the giant that I had been fighting earlier, evidently looking for instructions.

    The chief slaver sneers, hatred clear in his burning gaze. I feel a growl build in the back of my throat as I adjust my stance, positioning myself firmly over Ilia’s shaking form. His eyes flicker between the two of us, irritation flashing through his eyes. Eventually, a resigned grunt falls from his lips as he tilts his chin upward, lowering his massive broadsword from his shoulder.

    “No one wants a rebellious slave. Kill him and take the girl.”

    I feel like a bucket of cold water has been dumped down my back. For just a few seconds, my vision seems to flicker, and I see a different bulblin standing in front of me, hefting a heavy cane in his right hand, his eyes bright with hatred. I feel my heart constrict, the horribly familiar cords tightening around my wrists, around my throat, the sensation of helplessness that consumes every rational thought as I wait to die.

    " _Link!_ "

    Small hands roughly shove me aside, and I stagger, my mind snapping back to the present, my body twisting in my effort to keep my balance, my eyes meeting Ilia’s just in time to see them cloud over in pain before she doubles over and collapses against me.

    “ _Ilia!_ ” I cry in a panic, frantically searching for what’s wrong until I catch sight of the arrow that has pierced her stomach directly above her left hip.

     _By Din-_

    “L-Link?” she gasps, lifting her tear-streaked face towards mine. Then her eyes fixate on something behind me and an inarticulate cry escapes her lips.

    I whirl around just in time to catch the bulblin’s sword on my dagger, but I find myself staggering under the force of the blow, my hands buzzing with the impact. I snarl, shoving him backwards and pressing forward, my smaller weapon flicking neatly under his guard and slashing open his throat. Another slaver immediately takes his place, his sword flickering forward in a straight thrust. I’m already moving to deflect the blade and let it slide past me when I realize that if I do, he’ll stab Ilia instead.

    No time to think. Just react.

    My vision flashes white.

    My lungs won’t work.

    My ears ring.

    Ilia…

    I hear her scream.

    I feel her hands on my cheeks.

    I see her face, streaked with tears.

    Someone seizes her shoulders and yanks her away from me, out of my field of vision. I try to call her name, but a sudden flash of agony through my entire body forces me to my knees instead.

    Red.

    All I see is can see is red. Blossoming across my chest, covering my hands, flowing into the water, smirking down at me and boring into my soul.

    The red eyes glance behind me. I see him nod.

    Something slams across the back of my head, and the world goes dark.

* * *

     _"W…p.”_

    My head hurts.

_“Wake up!”_

    My _everything_ hurts.

     _“Awaken!”_

     _Leave me alone._

     _“Arise, hero!”_

_Let me sleep._

     _“Link! Your friends need you!”_

I groan, but I manage to force my eyes open, staring straight up into a starry sky. There’s a strange sort of glow around everything, like the stars have lit the air on fire. My skin tingles all over, and my neck and my chest ache as though I've just recovered from some terrible disease. I blink a few times and the glow fades along with the tingling. I'm still sore, but… why? And why am I wet? Grimacing, I push myself groggily upright, watching the water of the Ordona Spirit Spring running off of my arms and dripping off my clothes. Why the heck am I lying in the water? Why… why are my clothes torn?

    I pull nervously at the fabric, and my eyes widen as I take in the pink, ropy new scar, extending for several inches right below my sternum.

    Just for a moment, I can see a blade protruding from my chest, dripping with my own blood.

     _By Din._

    All at once it comes rushing back to me in a wave of nausea: the hole in the sky, the bulblin slavers that appeared out of thin air, the dagger, the arrow, the sword, the blood.

    Ilia.

    I scramble to my feet, swaying briefly as a wave of dizziness washes over me, sweeping my gaze over the Spring. I recoil as I catch sight of the bodies of the two bulblin slavers still lying nearby, their eyes glazed in death, their blood coloring the waters red. I swallow back bile, force down the panic threatening to seize up my body, and tear my eyes away, searching along the dim shoreline.

     _Nayru, where is Ilia?!_

    There’s only one exit from the Spring, so that’s the direction I run, sprinting towards the bridge leading towards Faron Province. That’s what slavers always do after all: sweep in, take their spoils, and run back to their homeland before anyone can organize themselves to stop them.

    I can’t let it happen again.

    On the Faron side of the bridge, I pull up short, staring up in confusion at what I can only describe as a wall of shadows marked with circular runes that I’ve never seen before, stretching across the path in both directions for as far as the eye can see. It appears insubstantial, like smoke, but when I try to touch it, it feels as though lightning snaps out to strike my hand, forcing me to take a step back with a sharp hiss of pain. Whatever this _thing_ is made of, wherever it came from, it seems familiar, like the shadows and smoke that somehow brought the bulblins to the Spring.

     _What in Nayru’s name…?_

    I stiffen as the hairs on the back of my neck prickle, standing on end, a sudden sense of unease shivering up my spine. Some feral instinct screams at me to run, but before I get the chance, a hand flies out of the wall and seizes me by the throat, dragging me through it.


	5. Chapter Four

     I choke and gasp, my hands pulling wildly against the grip of whatever has seized hold of me. Through the dark spots rapidly filling my vision, I can make out a huge creature with long, gangly limbs wearing a strange mask while red markings trail across its body.

_ There are these grotesque black monsters with really long arms wearing glowing red masks. _

_ Goddes- _

     Pain suddenly flares in my left hand, ripping a strangled cry from my throat. At the same time, inexplicably, the monster tosses me aside, reeling back with something between a howl and a screech. I hit the ground hard, but any thoughts of running flee my mind as the pain spreads, shooting up my arm and spider-webbing across my chest, constricted around my heart and lungs and cutting off my scream, turning every limb to jelly and every thought into a plea for the agony to stop as my face seems to grow heavy and something like fire or a million ants or both crawls over my skin as I convulse, howling through the pain.

     The last thing I see before my prayers are heard and unconsciousness finally wraps me in its arms is a single, yellow-red eye, peering down at me from the treetops.

* * *

     I don’t regain consciousness all at once. Rather, it comes in phases, little bits and pieces of awareness filtering through the darkness. Once, I distinctly feel that I'm being dragged across the ground. Another time, I hear a series of harsh voices, speaking in a language that I can’t understand. Later still, a rancid scent strikes my nose, powerful enough to burn my nostrils and linger on my tongue, causing me to recoil with a soft groan, my nose scrunching up in a way that feels strangely foreign before I drift back into darkness. When I finally come to, I keep my eyes closed, my senses questing outwards in an effort to figure out what happened to me.

     It’s so  _ quiet _ ; you’d think that I was lying in a tomb. Considering the smell, maybe I am - like a mixture of waste and vomit and worse and it’s literally  _ everywhere _ . My face feels strange too, swollen and heavy when I try to lift my head. Was I thrown in here to die? But then why bother dragging me anywhere? Why not just kill me back in the forest and be done with it?

     Because I’m almost certain that I’m no longer in the forest. The smell is all wrong, but more than that, I’m pretty sure that I’m lying on stone, which would make it very likely that I’m indoors somewhere, though I’ll admit it’s hard to tell with the weird cloth under my cheek. I try to move my hand to push it away, but my arm doesn’t seem to want to move the way it should. I hear a vague  _ clink _ at the same time - the first thing I’ve heard in what feels like hours - and something twitches rather close to my head in an automatic response. 

     Wait. I just  _ felt _ that twitch. Was that… Is that… my  _ ear _ ?

     My body lurches strangely as my eyes fly open, staring wildly at my surroundings. I manage to catch a glimpse of stone walls and metal bars in place of a door, before my attention is seized by my hands.

     Or rather,  _ paws _ .

     I jolt upright, tugging painfully against the manacle surrounding what  _ was _ my right wrist before promptly collapsing back onto my stomach, my strangely-bent legs - back  _ and front  _ \- unaccustomed to taking my weight. I swing my head back and forth, allowing myself a moment to be alarmed by how front-heavy it feels, before I’m distracted by the sight of the black and white hair covering my entire body, and the strange mark on the back of my left hand.  _ Paw,  _ I mean.

     I don't think that this is hair. It looks more like a silvery scar, visible even underneath the thick… fur. It takes the shape of a triangle, divided into four equal sections, the bottom left shimmering more clearly than the others. And is it… glowing? Or is that a trick of the oddly distorted light that seems to pervade everything?

     I'm dreaming. I have to be dreaming. There's no way in Hyrule that this can be real.

     But it sure feels real. Every single one of my senses  _ screams _ at me that this is real, whether or not my brain can cope with that reality. And if this is real, then Ilia, and probably the rest of the village, is in grave danger. 

     I have to get out of here. 

     Moving carefully, I gather my legs underneath me, shifting so that the manacle won't tug on my wrist while I'm still getting my sea legs. Animal legs? Beast legs?  _ Monster  _ legs? It's hard to tell exactly  _ what _ I am without some kind of mirror. Standing up isn’t as hard as I’d thought it would be, but balancing takes a little while to get the hang of when I’m so front-heavy. It’s quite a shock when I feel the first low swing behind me helping with that and realize that I have a  _ tail _ . Even stranger is when I try to coordinate my first few tentative steps on four limbs and very nearly topple over my own feet. 

     Hands? Paws? Ugh. 

     Eventually I grow confident enough to start inspecting the manacle, trying to figure out if there’s any way I can slip free of it, but it seems that they - whoever  _ they _ may be - bound me with a manacle designed for someone with exceptionally small wrists, so that won’t work. Still, it doesn’t stop me from tugging against it, pawing at it, and when the frustration becomes too much for me to handle, seizing the chain in my teeth and yanking at it.

     And promptly falling flat on my face as I pull myself off-balance.

     A burst of giggles causes me to stiffen, twisting and scrambling back to my feet, my too-heavy head turning in an effort to identify the source. When I find it, I can’t help but stare. 

     “Well, I’m glad to have finally found you, but I’ll admit I wasn’t expecting to see you stumbling about like a newborn puppy.”

     The best way that I can describe her - at least I  _ think _ she’s female, judging by the pitch of her voice and curved form - is that she appears to be some kind of fairy or other magical creature. She’s certainly not human; she’s barely two feet tall, even with the addition of a horned helmet covered with strange runes which extends down and leaves only her right eye - with its red iris and yellow sclera - visible. She has long, sharply pointed ears protruding from either side of her head, and a tuft of yellow-orange hair shows just above the helmet, while her skin is black in some parts, reminiscent of clothing, and a muted blue in others, traced with turquoise symbols similar to the ones on her helmet. She grins, baring a single, extra-long fang at me.

     Where is she from? Just judging by her accent, I doubt that she’s from Hyrule. But it isn't the harsh cadence of the bulblins; really, I've never heard anything like it before. Could she be in league with the black monster that captured me? The symbols all over her body look similar enough. I take a step back from her, a low growl building in the back of my throat, eyes narrowed at her. What  _ is  _ she? Why was she looking for me to begin with? And what will she do now that she's found me?

     “Ooh, aren’t you scary," she giggles again, pursing her lips as her eye widens mockingly, "but are you sure you want to be doing that? Snarling and glaring at me?"

     I feel the hair prickling across the back of my neck at her question, my body instinctively sinking even lower to the ground than before, my lips peeling back from my teeth in a way that makes me feel more animal than human. 

     "Hmph. Well that’s too bad. I _ was _ planning on helping you.  _ If  _ you were nice."

     I feel my ears prick up, betraying my flicker of interest at her implicit offer. I don't trust this…  _ person _ … but if she can really get me out of here… If she can help me save Ilia and the others… 

     I take a deep breath, the kind that I take when I'm fighting down a panic attack, and force myself to stand up straight. I'm not relaxed, not by a long shot, and my hackles are still very much raised, but at least I'm not showing my teeth anymore. The imp giggles again, and I have to fight down another growl.

     I'm rapidly coming to hate that sound.

     "That’s much better. You humans are obedient to a fault, aren’t you?" she smirks, leaning into my face. I flinch back. When did she get in front of me? Wasn't she outside the door? She continues as though she hasn't noticed. "Oops! But you  _ aren’t _ a human anymore, are you? You’re a  _ wolf.  _ And everyone knows doggies are unfailingly obedient." She bops the underside of my nose - muzzle? - for emphasis and I snap at her, a bark startling even me as it bursts from my mouth.

     Another awful laugh and she springs back, neatly avoiding my teeth. I feel my stomach drop as I cringe away from her, a little horrified by my automatic reaction. I've gotta get ahold of myself. She doesn't seem aware of my internal turmoil however, she just stands before me - in midair, I belatedly realize - snickering, her hands resting on her wide hips. "There there, be a good boy. There’s no need to bite."

     She closes her eye, a look of concentration turning the corners of her mouth down as she holds her hands apart by her midriff. My eyes widen as a sphere of crackling, orangish energy appears between her hands, growing in size the longer she keeps it there. Then there’s a flash of color that I’m too slow to avoid, and a sharp burst of pain hits my right wrist. I flinch away from it, an undignified yip wrenched from my mouth as I retreat to the other side of the room.

     Hang on. The simple fact that I can move so far away… 

     I look down at my leg, gaping as I see that the manacle has vanished. When I glance towards the chain still attached to the floor, my eyes widen further, because the metal has literally  _ cracked  _ where that ball of energy hit it, apparently shattering it from my wrist. 

     Another wild laugh drags my eyes back towards the imp, who has once again somehow managed to appear in front of me. “You look kind of surprised! You didn’t think I’d come here without a  _ plan _ did you?” 

     Before I can flinch away, she swings onto my back, mounting me like a horse and squeezing her legs into my sides when I instinctively twist, trying to buck her off. “Whoa, there, easy boy!” she calls, seizing my ear and dragging back on it, forcing me to meet her single eye. “Listen, I like you, so I think I’ll get you out of here. But before we leave, there’s someone I want to introduce you to. Oh don’t give me that look. Why would I go through the trouble of breaking you out of a dungeon just to toss you into another one? Now, I’m gonna have to make a bit of noise, so if you want to get away scott-free, I’m gonna need you to do  _ exactly _ as I say. We clear?” I grimace up at her, but she has a point, and anyway, I’m a little desperate. So hesitantly, I nod, and she grins, baring her fang and releasing my ear as she flips off of me and dances over to the barred door, her entire physical form dissolving for a few seconds before she reappears on the other side. “Stand back, Wolfy!”

     I’m too flabbergasted even to be startled by this new ability of hers.  _ Wolfy? Really? _

     I flinch sharply as what I’d taken to be a piece of cloth trailing from her helmet suddenly comes to life, molding into a hand and lashing forward to seize the bars of the prison cell, wrenching the door off of its hinges and tossing it aside with a loud  _ crash!! _ “Quit gawking and let’s get moving!” she calls, even before the sound has finished echoing off the walls and reverberating in my skull. 

     I grimace, but trot obediently out into the passageway beyond the door. Honestly, I count it as a source of pride that I only stumble once along the way. The moment that I’ve stepped outside, the imp jumps cheerfully onto my back, gripping the hair on my shoulders and squeezing my sides with her heels. “Alright, Wolfy! Mush!” she calls, flourishing one of her hands beside my ear. I take the time to turn one baleful eye towards her before the sound of keys twisting in a lock galvanizes me forward, grumpily following the directions that my new companion gives me by tugging on my ears. 

     At least I don’t have to listen to her laugh this way. 

     She directs me deeper into the dungeon, past cells that seem, for the most part, to contain nothing more than strange, floating lights, each and every one of them a soft blue in color. The first time I notice one of them move towards me, I actually stumble in surprise. The imp sniggers at me, but all she says about them is that there will be time for sightseeing later, a fact emphasized when I hear the incoherent shouting behind us as my destroyed cell door is discovered. 

     Eventually, she tugs me to a stop next to a grate in the wall, in one of the rare sections of the prison that isn’t lined with a cell. One sniff and I know instantly where it leads, and I feel my ears flatten against the top of my head in dread. 

     “Oh please,” my guide rolls her eyes at me. “It’s this, or get tortured by the creep who had you thrown in here.” Her ribbon-hand shoots forwards again, seizing the grate and tugging it out of the wall, exposing a hole just big enough for me to crawl through. It comes out easily enough that I can’t help but suspect that this was her way in as well.

_ “What… sound?” _

     I turn sharply, searching for the source of the voice, spoken as though right next to my ear, but I see no one. Just the strange blue lights, floating as ever in the cell opposite from me.

_ “Goddesses…! Look…” _

_      “Again?… monsters… ghosts!” _

     My ears twitch, searching desperately. Where is that coming from? Have the monsters caught up to me already? Where are they? 

     “Oh my,” the imp on my back says softly, her voice oddly subdued. “It seems you’re starting to hear them.” I crane my head towards her, meeting the grim expression in her eye. “The guards will be coming this way. Come on, let’s go.”

     Confused, I reluctantly turn back towards the wall and crouch down, scrambling through the hole. She follows behind me, and I hear her pulling the metal grate back into position as we go. It won’t fool anyone for long, but it might buy us a minute or two. And judging by the harsh voices echoing through the tunnels, we’re going to need that time. My heart begins to race as I recognize their accent, and I pause as the tunnel begins to close in on me and a surge of panic churns in my gut. 

     Bulblins. The prison guards are _bulblins._ Where the heck _am_ I? How long was I out? What do they want with me?

     “What’s the holdup? Get moving, would you?” my companion hisses, a little bit of irritation coloring her tone as she shoves against my rear. I shakily crawl the last foot, still fighting against the threatening panic attack as I reach the end of our escape tunnel and jump ten feet down into the sewer system. I misjudge the strength of my legs in this form though, jumping too far and hitting the opposite wall of the narrow corridor in the process. I land in a crumpled heap on the small maintenance walkway alongside the sluggish river of sewage, blinking dazedly as she floats down to me. 

     “Ugh, you really are hopeless, aren’t you,” she sighs, climbing back on my shoulders. “Get up, Wolfy. With the guards onto us, we have to move quickly if we’re going to reach the tower undetected.” 

     It’s four years of experience pushing my way through panic attacks that helps me to stagger to my feet, still blinking owlishly. The imp leads me along the maintenance paths of the sewer tunnels the same way that she led me through the dungeon, pulling on my ears and digging her heels into my sides. I growl at her once when it gets too harsh, and she rolls her eye at me, but does rein back on how sharp her tugs are. Eventually, we reach a staircase leading upwards, and she pulls me to a stop right next to the door. This time, she floats off of me and uses her actual hand to carefully turn the knob and push the door open a few inches. 

     After a moment, she beckons me forward, slipping through the door herself. I follow on silent feet, nudging the door wider with my shoulder before creeping into a new, silent passageway. My guide jumps back on my shoulders, and we move forward again, pausing frequently to listen for any shouting or other indication of the presence of guards, and once ducking underneath a stone stairwell as a clatter of movement announces the approach of a single soldier, yawning widely and lifting a red-and-black mask a few inches away from his face to take a swig of something pungent from a canteen before pushing his way through another door. I shiver against the cold, damp breeze that sweeps over me before the door slams shut behind him, echoing through the tomb-like halls. Then the imp tugs on my ear and we move off once again, this time heading up the stairs that the soldier just vacated. She opens the door at the top of the stairs again, and we slip out into a rainy evening.

     There’s no sun in sight, even through the scudding clouds suspended above the horizon. Everything has a strange, orangish-gray tint to it, similar to the soft glow of late evening, but more oppressive, as though the sky itself clings to everything it touches: the battlements, the houstops beyond the wall, the towers and turrets rising from the courtyard, the trees scattered through the gardens, and even my own body.

_ There’s something wrong with the sky. It's like there's a permanent sunset. Like time never moves forward. _

     A chill runs down my spine, but I try to shake it off, instead focusing on determining where the heck I  _ am.  _ Do bulblins organize themselves in townships? Do they build castles as large and grandiose as this one? Somehow that doesn’t seem right to me. Not to mention the bulblins live to the far east of Hyrule, a journey that would take weeks of travel; I can’t possibly have remained unconscious for that entire journey. But then again, the bulblins did somehow literally appear out of the sky in Ordona Province, so it’s not impossible that they used some kind of magic to spirit me away. And the only people that I’ve seen so far have been bulblins. Well, that and the little spheres of blue light that still float by on occasion, some swooping high in the air, others darting past my feet. I see one perched on top of one of the merlons, then I jump when I swear I hear it  _ caw. _

     “Look, I realize that the Twilight’s beautiful and all, but didn’t I tell you this wasn’t the time to gawk?” my passenger grumbles, tugging my ear to force my head away. “Come on, the tower’s right there. Honestly, I’m surprised that we haven’t run into more guards, but then I guess they would be spread pretty thin right now, given that they’re in the middle of conquering Hyrule.” I twist to look at her, my eyes very wide. She cocks her only visible eyebrow at me. “What, you didn’t realize what’s going on here? Ha! I bet you don’t even know where we  _ are _ do you? Well, that’ll all be fixed soon enough. Hup to, we don’t have much time left.”

     The door of the tower is locked when we arrive, but instead of pulling the door off of its hinges again, the imp floats up to the closest tower window, then reaches down and grabs me around the middle with her ribbon, hauling me up to join her. It’s easily among the least pleasant sensations that I‘ve ever experienced, but at least it’s over quickly. “Almost there, Wolfy. Straight to the top!” she grins, resuming her seat on my back. Irritated though I am at her bossiness, she’s gotten me this far, so I obey, racing up the stairs and allowing myself a moment to be pleased with how quickly my coordination has improved. 

     I’m panting rather heavily by the time I reach the very top of the tower, where I’m presented by the sight of a sparse bedroom beyond a heavy iron prison door, and a tall figure wrapped in a brown cloak, staring out the window. 

     “Knock, knock!” my passenger calls in a sing-song voice, and I can hear her smirk. “I’ve brought someone to meet you!”


	6. Chapter Five

    The figure by the window turns sharply at the sound of the imp’s voice. I feel my ears flattening once again, a nervous growl rumbling in my chest no matter how hard I try to quell it, cringing back, eyes narrowed as they try to pierce the shadows cast by the stranger’s cowl. Pale hands slip free of the folds of the cloak and reach up to the hood, pushing it back far enough to reveal a narrow face framed by dark brown hair and blue-green eyes. 

    My breath catches in my throat, cutting off the snarl in an instant.

    They look almost… like Ilia’s eyes.

    “Midna?” the woman gasps. “What are you still doing here? The shadow beasts have been searching far and wide for you; stay any longer and you  _ will _ be caught!”

    “As sweet as it is for you to worry about me, I can handle myself. Those creepy opportunists don’t frighten me.”

    “This is no time for levity! You need to get out, before they find you!”

    “Yeah, yeah, but there’s someone that I wanted to introduce you to first.” ‘Midna’ roughly tousles the fur at the top of my head, causing me to duck irritably away from her touch, drawing the woman’s attention to me. She blinks in surprise, looking me over, her eyes lingering for some reason on my left ha… paw. Slowly, she steps towards the bars, kneeling down in front of them so that she can be closer to my eye level. 

    “So this is the one you were seeking?” she asks Midna, searching my eyes for something that I cannot name. 

    “Yeah, he’s not exactly what I had in mind, but I guess he’ll do.” I twist to glare at the smirking imp, then flinch when I turn back and find the woman’s hand inches from my head. She pauses, as though silently asking permission - for  _ what _ exactly I'm not sure - then extends her hand the rest of the way so that her fingertips press against my forehead.

_     Mother’s and father’s faces flash before my eyes in rapid succession, the farm, the village, the river, my childhood friends, and that horrible night when everything went to hell. The journey, the beatings, the slaver’s bloated face, my hands covered in blood and my feet torn to ribbons and the tree fringe fading from view.  _

_     Then Ilia, sitting at my bedside the day I woke up. Ilia, wrapping her arms around me as I relive the awful memories night after night. Ilia, introducing me to the villagers, helping me to turn Ordon into my home. Ilia, her face streaked with tears as she comes to me with nightmares of her own. Ilia, screaming in fear as a bulblin slaver pins her arms to her sides. Ilia, gasping my name as blood spills down her leg. Ilia, sobbing in desperation as she’s dragged away from my blood-soaked body.  _

_     Then waking up to a starry sky, feeling a monster's hand around my throat, collapsing in pain before waking up once more in a strange place and a strange body, my only offers of help from a mysterious creature with an impish smirk, and an even more mysterious woman wrapped in a dark cloak. _

     I reel back, breathing heavily as I struggle to process what just happened. The woman has drawn her hand back to her chest, her green eyes bright with sympathy. "You've experienced even more hardship than I'd realized. I am sorry for that."

    A whine escapes my lips as I back out of arm's reach. She had no right to know any of that. No right to  _ see _ any of that. And I had no desire to relive it. Not like that. The nightmares are bad enough. 

    "Yeah, the poor thing has no idea where he is, or what happened to him," Midna sighs with apparent long-suffering. I twist to look at her, confused for a moment before I realize that she has no idea what just happened. "So, don't you think you should explain to him what you've managed to do? You owe him that much, Twilight Princess."

_ Twilight Princess? What does that mean? _

    The woman hesitates, glancing towards the staircase behind me, then returns her eyes to mine. "Listen carefully; there isn't enough time to explain all that has transpired before the guards make their rounds, so please, would you allow me to show you? I understand that I overstepped my bounds before, but please, there’s no other way.” One of her hands grips the bars while the other extends towards me. Her eyes are hard, serious, but not unkind. Just desperate. 

    I suppose I can understand that. I’m sure that I must look the same way. Slowly, hesitantly, I step close enough for her fingers to brush against my fur and rest between my closed eyes.

_ Light, pouring in from all directions, windows depicting the legends and history of Hyrule turning the plain granite into gemstones. Soldiers, standing at attention, spears in hand, positioned throughout the room, and common citizens, bringing their troubles before the king. _

_     A glance right.  _

_     A gilded chair, a grizzled figure, a regal gaze, and a fond smile. A question, and a name. _

_     A deafening  _ CRACK!! _ and a black hole with red markings. Men and women scream. Black smoke spills into the room. A massive black beast with a red mask seizes father by the throat and throws him across the room at the feet of a figure festooned in black robes with pale blue runes and sparse armor, including a strange helmet, cone-shaped with protruding eye pieces and mandibles, like a beetle's head. _

_     There's a sword in my hand, but I don't move. Every life in Hyrule hangs in the balance as his command to surrender rings through the air. _

_     The sword slips from my grasp.  _

_     A black blade. A blur of motion. A cry of pain and a spray of blood and voices scream as father chokes and writhes and monsters seize my arms and darkness descends on everything and everyone around me fades until all that remain are pale blue lights, floating in the air, leaving me utterly alone, surrounded by shadows. _

    Once again I flounder for air as the woman pulls away from me, the vision fresh in my mind. So, at the same time that Ordona was attacked, the rest of Hyrule was also placed under siege, and in an effort to save its people, the royal family surrendered, and the king was killed for it. Moments later, this darkness fell over the land, and the people faded away. 

    So all those blue lights that I saw in the prison… And this woman… I look at her with new eyes. Now that I'm looking for it, I can just see the soft gleam of the blue gemstone set in the middle of her forehead, held in place by a circlet of golden leaves. With her identity confirmed, I extend one leg forward and dip my head in a clumsy bow before Princess Zelda of Hyrule.

    She seems uncertain how to react, reaching towards me, but then faltering and drawing back once again. "Please don't," she whispers finally. "I…" She hesitates, glancing away from me, but she doesn't need to finish. I know what's on her mind.

_     I should have been able to save them. _

_     I wasn't good enough. _

_     I failed. _

_     Ilia…  _

    "Sheesh, what's with the gloom and doom?" Midna grumbles, lounging across my back in a way that makes me tense and growl at her. "I mean, we find it to be quite livable! Is perpetual twilight really all that bad?"

_ Perpetual twilight? _

    "Midna-" Princess Zelda begins disapprovingly, only to pause as my head turns, my ears pricking up sharply at the low creak then the resounding  _ boom _ echoing up the stairwell. "You need to go," she says sharply, scrambling to her feet. "Quickly! The window!"

    I retreat from the door, frowning up towards the window that the princess had indicated. It’s too high off the ground for me to jump to, especially given that it’s positioned over the stairwell, but Midna solves that problem for us by floating up to the opening and seizing me around the middle with her ribbon. I bite my tongue to cut off the instinctive yelp, then wince when my sharper-than-human teeth draw blood. The imp dumps me unceremoniously on the window ledge, then jerks her head towards the hole, leading the way onto a rain-slicked tile roof that I can only assume must connect to the tower by a door that I didn’t see due to our unusual entry point. 

    I glance over my shoulder one last time before I follow her outside, meeting Princess Zelda’s sober gaze for just a few seconds before she flicks her hood back over her eyes. 

    My left paw throbs. 

    Then I hear the stomp of leather on stone and hurry away. 

    Midna practically dances in the rain as she moves to the far edge of the rooftop, well out of hearing distance for anyone in the tower. “Well, I presume that you understand where we are now, as well as a little bit of the situation that your world is in. Must be rough, finding out that everyone in your world have turned to spirits, including those friends you're so anxious to save.”

    I stiffen, my eyes snapping up to the imp. She grins, baring her fang at me. "You thought I didn't know? How do you think I knew to find you here? I've had my eye on you since that shadow beast dragged you into the Twilight."

    A chill runs down my spine. That flicker of yellow just before I passed out… was that her? Midna?

    "Anyhow, it’s none of  _ my _ business, but you should know that there's nothing you can do to help them so long as they remain trapped in Twilight. And seeing as you and the princess are the only ones who know what's going on, I guess that means you're the only ones who can do anything about it," she giggles, her eye narrowed pointedly towards me. 

    She's not exactly subtle, but I doubt that she's trying to be. What does she want  _ me _ to do about this? Heck, what  _ can _ I do about this?

    "Anyway, I guess a promise is a promise, so I'll get you out of here. But if you  _ do _ want to save your friends, you're going to need help. And of course, little Midna would be happy to help you! But…"

    I allow a low growl to slip from my mouth, my hackles rising. Just what is this imp's game? She smirks at me, reading my expression perfectly. I'm going to have to work on that.

    "… well, you’d have to be my servant, and like a servant, you’d have to do  _ exactly _ as I say!" I growl at her again, but she just snickers at me. "Why don’t you go back, take a little time, and give it some thought, hm?" She flicks her hand towards me, and a strange sensation seems to roll across my entire body, like all of my senses are being scrambled so that I can smell the sound of rushing water and hear the cling of fog to my fur and touch the flavor of ash lingering in the air and taste the sight of the omnipresent sunset and see the mixed scent of rain and blood. 

    When next I am relatively certain that I have fully returned to myself, I all but stagger against the burn of morning sunlight filling my gaze, stumbling over my four paws and shivering at the soft breeze that reminds me of the rain that has soaked into my fur even while nausea churns in my stomach against the lingering scent and flavor of blood that seems to pervade everything around me and the dizzying array of sounds that cause my ears to flick instinctively in all directions. It all boils down to one thing: I am still in a wolf’s body. And for the first time, staring into the waters of Ordona Spring, I can see my distorted reflection.

    As best as I can tell, the sides of my nose and my cheeks are covered in white fur, with black extending from the tip of my nose to the bridge and over my forehead to a scruff that I think is too thick to be normal. There’s also a strange pattern of marks on my forehead in white fur, like a diamond… or maybe a circle? It’s hard to tell with the ripples in the water. My eyes are still blue, though. And when my ears twitch, I catch a flicker of blue there as well. Am I still wearing my earrings then? I’m glad, even though it may draw attention. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost them. 

    But that’s not my first priority right now. Wolf or not, I’m back in Ordona Province, and that means that I have a chance to help my friends. My  _ family _ . Taking a deep breath to steel myself against the dark memories already swirling in my mind’s eye, I trot out of the water, heading towards the entrance.

_ “And just where do you think you’re going?” _

    I jump, spinning around when I hear Midna’s voice as though she’s perched on my back just as always. But she’s not there. As a matter of fact, I can’t see her anywhere. It’s as though she never existed to begin with. 

    Except for the high pitched-giggle that bounces around in my skull.  _ “You didn’t think I’d gone away, now did you? I have to keep an eye on you until you’ve made your decision. So then, where are you off to?” _

    I consider how to respond even as I continue to scan the Spring for any hint of where she might have gone. But eventually, not having spotted her, I simply make my way out of the Spring, ignoring the question. I don’t have to answer to that little imp, even if she did help me to escape from Hyrule Castle. I may have turned into a wolf in that shadow world when everyone else turned into spirits, but that doesn’t mean I know how to get rid of it. Whatever Midna wants from me, I don’t have to play to her game. I have my own agenda.

_ “Hmph. Suit yourself. But if you want to talk, I’m here.” _

    She falls silent after that, leaving me to make my way up the path back towards Ordon Village in peace. Somewhat belatedly, I realize that a wolf running along a well-worn, clearly  _ human-made _ path in broad daylight isn’t exactly the least conspicuous sight in the world. After a moment’s deliberation, I crawl into the foliage just alongside the path, intending to walk alongside it until I’ve gotten close enough to assess the situation. 

    I’m immediately presented with an almost-solid wall of green, surrounding me on all sides. It’s a shock, realizing for the first time just how much shorter I am on all fours as opposed to two legs. My cheeks flush darkly as I hear Midna giggling, teasing me for my lack of forethought. It takes all my willpower to ignore her none-too-gentle jabs, instead pusing a little deeper into the forest at the side of the path until I find a natural game path, awash with new scents. It’s an interesting area to navigate, pressing along these small trails so close to the larger one, yet so well-hidden. Staying on track is easier than I’d thought it would be; I’ve always had a good sense of direction, but in this form I feel like I almost have a kind of internal compass, where every sensation - every smell, sound, sight, taste, and touch - form a kind of mental map to guide me to my goal. 

    Before long, I catch the combined scents of smoke and roasting meat and my stomach constricts, grumbling irritably and reminding me that I haven’t had anything to eat since lunch of probably yesterday. Maybe longer, but I have no way of knowing for certain. Either way, it’s a sure sign that I’m close, so I slow down slightly, wary of any encounters, be they with the bulblins or the villagers. After all, I can’t imagine that they would react well to seeing a wolf creeping through the brush, especially with all that they’ve been through of late.

    As I get closer, stepping into an open glade, a new set of scents hits my nostrils and I freeze, sniffing delicately as I try to sort through them. There’s sweat and the faintest hint of blood, almost drowned out by a thicker musk that I know I recognize but can’t identify. Beyond that I smell something similar to whenever I step into the barn, but this scent is more pungent. Almost more sour. There’s another scent that I’m having trouble identifying too, but it’s tying my stomach in knots. Cautiously, I creep forward, doing my best to move silently. As I peek between two trees, I feel my breath catch in my throat, my eyes blowing wide.

    Mayor Bo and Jaggle - Malo and Talo’s father - stand huddled behind one of the oversized oak trees that surround Ordon Village, peering across the goat pastures towards the houses, their postures tense and rigid.

    “What do you think they’re up to, sir?” Jaggle whispers.

    “I can’t be certain from this distance, but by the  _ smell _ of things, they’re celebrating their victory.” The bitterness in his tone is palpable.

    “Do you think we can hold out long enough for the army to make it, sir?”

    “I don’t know, Jaggle. For the bulblins to have made it this far into the country…”

    “What, sir?”

    “I can’t help but think that we may be on our own.”

    “But then… what of the children, sir?” Jaggle asks hesitantly, his hands twisting in an agitated manner. My stomach clenches as Mayor Bo falls silent. Of course more than just Ilia were taken. Didn't Midna basically say that earlier?

    “I don’t know,” he whispers, and I can hear the pain lacing his voice. “If they were still being held in the village, then I would try to stage some sort of rescue, but those brutes carted them off the first moment they could, and with the horses out of our reach and Rusl and several of the other men so injured… It feels like the best we can hope for is to try and head off to another village and hope that the situation there isn’t as bad.”

    “Surely there must be  _ something _ that we can do to save them!"

    "And what of ourselves, Jaggle?"

    "Sir-"

    "With the arrival of these beasts, we've lost the herd, our main source of food. I don't know that any of us have the skills to survive by scavenging in the forest through the summer."

    "Maybe not, but-" 

    "And what about when winter falls, while none of us have proper shelter? It may be more mild here than other parts of the kingdom, but food will still be an issue."

    "But sir, my  _ sons  _ are gone-!"

    "And my  _ daughter _ is missing! As is Link, who I look upon as a son!"

    My throat constricts sharply. _ His son…? _

    The two men glare at each other for what feels like hours before Jaggle drops his gaze. The mayor groans, leaning back against the tree, rubbing his hand over tear-stained eyes, returning his voice to a normal volume. "We can't save the children if we can't even save ourselves, Jaggle," he whispers. "Believe me, I wish we could."

    Silence falls between them. I should go. I've heard enough. But I can't bring myself to move. This… something about this is strange. I can feel their despair. No. That's not right. I can  _ smell _ it. The same way I can smell the meat roasting over the fire. And I can smell the fear, the pain, the grief, the burning anger. This isn't good. Emotions like these… they're bound to do something that will endanger not only their lives, but the children's as well. 

     Jaggle straightens, a little abruptly. "Well, if that'll be all sir, then I'm going to rejoin my wife." Mayor Bo nods absently, and he tromps away through the forest.

    I should follow him, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. But the mayor sighs, catching my attention once more. "Ilia," he murmurs, "Link, wherever you are, take care of the others. Keep them safe. And keep each other safe, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will be Saturday, then I'll have weekly updates after that.


	7. Chapter Six

    I plod quietly through the forest, following the trail left by Jaggle's scent and his oversized feet, mulling over the conversation I just overheard. It would seem that Mayor Bo and the others didn't see the hole in the sky, nor the black monsters that I saw in Princess Zelda's memories. As far as they know, the bulblins are acting alone, but the Mayor was right to think that the army won’t be coming.

    I grit my teeth. As much as I want to save Ilia and the others, there are people  _ here _ who need my help, too.

    The mayor wasn't wrong; without the goats and the small gardens that every family in Ordon keeps, the villagers face starvation even before the arrival of winter, especially given that the only people who really knew their way around Faron Woods and the Ordona Forest were Ilia and me, and to a lesser extent, Rusl. If he's been injured to the extent that the Mayor implied, then they really have no one capable of helping them to find food or shelter. Not to mention that with the bulblins occupying the village, the closer they are, the more their lives are at risk. However, with the veil of Twilight blocking the way into Faron, they won't be able to escape to another town, either.

    But there might be another option.

    There's a place that I found two years ago where everyone can hide. It's big enough to shelter most of the village, and there's plenty of food nearby. It's my secret garden. The place where I go when I want to be totally alone. It might be their best chance.

    The only question is how to get them there while I'm in this form.

_ "So who's Link?" _

    My head snaps around again at the sound of Midna's voice. And her awful laugh.

_ "Still can't figure out where I'm hiding, can you Wolfy?" _ I allow myself a soft growl in response, though that only causes her to snigger more.  _ "Try looking down." _

    Loathe as I am to follow her suggestion, I glance downward, curiosity piqued. Only to find… nothing. There's nothing apparently special about the ground. No hidden tunnels. No strange scent. Just my shadow, hugging my paws. 

    And significantly darker than it should be.

    Another round of giggles.

_ "Figured it out, huh?" _

    I stare, bewildered, as my shadow quite literally rises off the ground and congeals into a semblance of Midna's impish form, like a silhouette with only her yellow-red eye visible to show how broadly she's grinning at me.

    "Did you think I'd disappeared?" I quirk an eyebrow at her. How could I, when she made her presence so clearly known? "Hm. Well anyway, getting back to my question, who's Link? You got really fidgety when your friends mentioned him." I grimace, my teeth peeling back from my lips before I stalk past her.

    "What kind of reaction is that? Is he your rival for that girl's affections or something? Fine, fine, touchy subject," she grumbles as I pause long enough to turn a baleful eye towards her. "Anywho, have you thought about my proposal at all? It would seem you can't rely on your friends to do anything. They're all hoping that this Link person will solve the issue for them."

    And  _ that _ is precisely the problem, because I'm in absolutely no position to do  _ anything  _ at the moment. I push onward with a huffed sigh, leaving Midna to grumble, "Their funeral," under her breath and disappear back into my shadow.

    I need more information. I need a lot of things, but that’s one of the few that I feel like I can get in this form. 

    Eventually, I manage to close the distance between myself and my prey -  _ ugh, I need to come up with a better word than that _ \- enough to hear the soft crunch of his boots against the leaves, as well as an unintelligible grumbling. I lift my head, sniffing curiously as I make out the faint scent of woodsmoke. 

    “Jaggle? Is that you?”

    I pause, instinctively ducking deeper into the foliage as I hear the heavy sigh somewhere in front of me.

    “Yes Pergie, dear. It’s me.” 

    “Oh thank the Goddesses.” Her voice seems weak and teary as I hear the rustle of the foliage and the quiet grunt as Pergie, presumably, throws her arms around her husband’s neck. “Were you able to find anything?”

    “No,” Jaggle sighs bitterly. “At least, nothing of use. We have no way of knowing where they took the boys and no way of getting supplies from the village so long as the bulblins occupy it.” 

    A charged silence falls and I slowly creep forward, peeking through the leaves until I can see the weary couple, holding one another as they rock quietly back and forth, Pergie blinking away tears while Jaggle rests his chin on the top of her head. 

    “What do we do now, love?” she whispers.

    Jaggle doesn’t respond, but I can smell the tremors of anger and possibly resentment rolling off of him. He's still very apt to do something rash, but so long as he's with his wife, he should be able to keep it in check. With a last, hesitant glance in his direction, I begin to circle the impromptu camp, growing more grave with each step. 

    There are maybe three children left in the village, and none of them older than five. I shouldn’t be surprised; I know how the bulblins operate. They only take the ones strong enough to make the journey, but young enough to break. The rest they kill or scatter, so that no one can come after them. Even if they’ve changed their strategy somewhat and chosen to occupy the village, everything else has remained true to protocol, as witnessed by the heavy scent of blood in the air, the sobs periodically rising through the makeshift camp, and the dull shadows of despair in the eyes of every person I see.

    There’s Sarah and Hanch, huddled together in prayer, begging the Goddesses to bring Beth back to them. There’s Fado, leaning against one of the trees, face slack and eyes staring dazedly into the distance. And there’s Uli, kneeling beside a bandage-swathed Rusl, silent tears pouring down her cheeks as she cradles her swollen abdomen with one hand and clutches her husband’s hand with the other. I cringe, and tear my eyes away from the bittersweet sight, fighting instead to turn my attention to what supplies and resources are scattered around the camp. 

    There isn’t much. It would seem that most people made do with sleeping on the ground the night before, and although there are campfires set up, the most food people seem to have found were nuts, berries, and maybe the occasional fish judging by the bones by one fire. They won’t last out the month like this. Even if the wall of Twilight  _ hadn’t _ been in the way, the mayor was frankly being far too optimistic about their chances of making it to another village before their food supplies ran out. Wolf or not, I’ve got to find a way to get them to safety.

    When I’ve learned all I can from my observations, I slip away from the little camp, making my way towards the village itself; I need to know what the bulblins are up to before I can come up with any kind of solid plan. I approach the village carefully. There are guards patrolling the premises on all sides, and I’ll need some form of cover in order to get close enough to learn anything of use. I quickly discover that the best route is along the game trails, which eventually wind parallel to the houses closest to the ranch. I observe the village carefully from my hiding place in the forest, but other than the patrols that I’ve already by-passed, there doesn’t appear to be anyone on guard duty. They’re all too busy merry-making in the village square. Gathering my legs beneath me, I dart forward, ducking into the shadow of the closest house. Continuing in quick runs, I make my way steadily closer.

    “Didja see ‘em runnin’!” a drunken voice cackles, causing me to stiffen and shrink back into the shadows. “Tha’ lookuv sho-  _ hic!  _ -ck thas al’ays lika dumb  _ beast! _ ”

    “Get ahold of yaself,” another voice snorts. “Ya look dumber than them right now.”

    “Pssshhh, is jus’ a few bo’les.”

    “Yeah, a few dozen, maybe.”

    “Wa’as wrong withat?”

    “Oi, fellas! Get yor ‘ides over ‘ere!” My ears prick up at the sound of this new voice, sharper and more authoritative. “The boss ‘as somethin’ to say!”

    “Right, right, we’re comin’!”

    I carefully weave through the houses, sticking as close to the walls as I can, then freeze when I catch sight of the village square. Two huge bonfires have been set up, each with a goat carcass slowly turning over it on a spit. There are a couple of kegs of wine that have been broken open sitting to one side. Were I to guess, they were probably raided from the mayor’s cellar. There are probably two dozen bulblins scattered through the little plaza, most holding tankards of wine or some other alcohol, and several clutching greasy hunks of meat in another hand, all shouting over each other and laughing and grinning and baring their teeth while the heat and the smoke from the flames crash over me and - 

    And I need to remember to breathe. That is impressed upon me all the more clearly when “the boss” appears - the heavily armored bulblin that ordered my death at Ordona Spring. Some obnoxiously analytical part of my brain wonders if Midna can tell that I’m shaking.

    “My comrades!” I startle slightly, refocusing on the man’s face and his broad, awful grin. “My congratulations to each and every one of you for this great victory!”

    The resounding roar from several dozen throats sends me pressing back against the wall, my lips curling back from my teeth, my hackles raised. I can feel my heart pounding, hear their voices swimming in and out of focus.  _ Goddesses _ I have  _ got _ to get a grip! Now is  _ not _ the time for a flashback!

    “With the province under our control, the King of Twilight will soon be able to spread his power over this land as well, giving us free rein to rule over it” -  _ That’s not good -  _ “but first, there is a task that we have yet to finish! The Ordonians, members of the foul race that cast our ancestors from Hyrule, remain alive! They must be hunted before our conquest is complete!”

_ Goddesses. Oh Goddesses, no. _

    “But that is not all! A dangerous prisoner has escaped Hyrule Castle, and the King wishes our help to recapture him!”

_ Uh oh. _

    “What makes the King think that he can  _ get  _ here with his power covering the land?” one of the bulblins pipes up. He’s likely a lieutenant or someone else of rank. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to get away with questioning orders. 

    “The King has reason to believe that there is a traitor helping him. One who can create Twilight portals.”

_ Double uh oh. _

    “Do we know who we’re looking for?”

    The bulblin leader sneers, rolling his eyes slightly. “Apparently, we’re looking for a black wolf with a triangle scar on his left paw.”

    Triple  _ uh oh. _

    A roar of laughter rises from the ranks. I take advantage of the noise to hurriedly back away and rush back towards the forest. I need to distance myself from the village. And I need to get the villagers as far away from here as possible. But what can I do? I’m a  _ wolf _ for crying out loud! I can’t speak to them, and even if I could, they would never stop long enough to listen. Goddesses, I need help. Some kind of opportunity-

    I freeze, skidding to a stop as I hear a soft melody on the breeze. It’s Ilia’s song, the lullaby she sang when I first woke up four years ago, but it’s a man’s voice singing it, low and tight and husky before it finally breaks into tight sobs. Instinctively, I make my way towards the sound, and I find myself oddly unsurprised to see Mayor Bo sitting alone with his back pressed against the trunk of an ancient oak, wiping at his tear-stained cheeks as he stares heavenward.

    “Please,” he whispers, “if you’re really there, help us. Help us to find a way.”

    My heart races. Well, I wasn’t actually expecting an answer - much less an answer this quickly - but I guess I shouldn’t complain.

    Cautiously, I step out of the forest and into full view. Mayor Bo flinches at the sight of me, shooting to his feet, his eyes blowing wide. I have to fight the instinct to cringe, knowing that baring my teeth will  _ not _ help this situation. Instead I sit back on my haunches, making a point of meeting his eyes as I do so. He stares at me, his expression still one of unmitigated shock. I feel my stomach clench as the tension mounts. What do I do? I can’t exactly talk to him- 

    “Are you…” My ears prick up, and I lift my head slightly as the man hesitates, glancing upwards once again. “Are you… here to help us?” he asks slowly. My heart seems to soar, at once relieved and anxious as I nod once, as clearly and deliberately as I can. His eyes widen. Under any other circumstance, it would be comical, but now really isn’t the time for me to think about that. “You can… understand me?” Again, I nod, and he releases a slow, unsteady breath. “What should I do?” I hesitate, my mind racing to come up with a way to answer him, then I stand, walking a few steps before glancing back towards him. “You… want me to follow you?”

    Another nod.

    “Lead the way.”

    My thoughts spin rapidly as I lead the way through the forest, glancing back occasionally to be sure that Mayor Bo is keeping up. I know that I’m taking a dangerous risk, leaving the villagers unprotected right now. I’m counting on the fact that most of the bulblins are drunk; hopefully that means that they won’t start their manhunt anytime soon. I glance skyward. It’s about midday, judging by the angle of the light filtering through the trees. That gives me less than eight hours before sunset to get everyone to safety. 

    I hope it’s enough time. 

_ “Clever move you pulled.”  _ I grimace at the sound of Midna’s voice in my head, but I keep moving.  _ “No that’s fine, just ignore me. It would look weird for a wolf to start talking to himself. Actually if you were to try to talk, would it come out as a bark or as a human voice do you think? Ah nevermind, it doesn’t matter. So anywho, where we goin’? You do have a plan, right? Right? Oh right, no talking. Hm. Well, guess I just have to trust you. Don’t screw this up, got it?” _

    It takes over an hour to reach our destination, but Mayor Bo’s reaction is enough to prove to me that it was worth it. 

    “Goddesses above,” he whispers in amazement, turning on the spot. The place that we’ve reached is a tiny valley, nestled among a group of hills and cliffs surrounded by trees the diameter of a small house. Actually, several ancient stumps have apparently been converted for that purpose, although they are long since abandoned. Fruit and nut trees are scattered throughout the area, and several overgrown patches have been fenced off, as though they were once small gardens. There’s a small stream that passes through the area as well, and I know from experience that it’s full of fish. The mayor turns towards me, beaming, and - to my surprise - bows deeply. “Thank you,” he murmurs, and I feel myself blush. 

    Hopefully that’s not visible through my fur. He turns back, murmuring to himself and nodding slowly. He’s gone into planning mode. If I were in human form then I would smirk at him. 

_ “Wow. How did you know this was here? Actually that’s not important; don’t you have somewhere else to be?” _

    Well, the imp’s not wrong.

    I huff pointedly to catch the mayor’s attention, then turn around and lead the way back towards the temporary campsite, this time leaving scratches on the trees so that Mayor Bo could find his way back alone if necessary. He nods upon observing this, and I see a little more tension slide from his shoulders in the process. Two hours later, we’ve reached the campsite, and I’m relieved to see that conditions there are mostly unchanged. I step back, remaining in the shadows while the mayor steps into the open.

    “Where have you been the last few hours?! We were worried about you, Mayor, sir,” Jaggle adds, marching towards him. 

    “I’ve found the solution to our problem.”

    Jaggle froze, staring at him in surprise. “The children?”

    Mayor Bo deflates slightly, shaking his head. “No, I mean a safe place for the villagers.”

    “…Oh. Well, that’s… good news.”

    The mayor gently grasps the other man’s shoulder, his expression turning solemn. “I know it’s not the news that you were hoping for, Jaggle, but it is the first step. Once everyone is settled, we can figure out how to help the children.” I hold my breath during the long moment that elapses before Jaggle nods, accepting his words. The mayor squeezes his shoulder again, then steps forward and begins organizing everyone to travel. I watch quietly for a few minutes before I slip back into the woods, keeping my distance.

_ “Well, there’s one problem solved. _ ” I glance up as Midna takes on a physical form, grinning at me. “So, your friends here are taken care of. You ready to go after your pals trapped in the Twilight now?”

    I hesitate, glancing towards the camp. Before I do anything, I'd like to make sure that they reach the glade safely. But Jaggle wasn't wrong earlier. The longer we delay, the further out of reach Ilia and the others will get. Of course with the portal magic the bulblins seem to possess, it may very well be a moot point; they could be long gone already. But if there's even the slightest chance that I can catch them before they get too far away… I have to try, don't I?

    With a reluctant sigh, I nod, and her grin broadens. “Excellent! Well, in that case, we’d better start heading back towards that clump of houses you call a village.” When I narrow my eyes at her, my head cocked to one side, she smirks again. “Didn’t I say that if you want my help you’ll have to be like my servant? That means that you have to do what I want, and right now I want something from your village. Oh, and before you growl at me again, you should know that you really don’t have a choice. 

    “In order to enter the Twilight, you need the cooperation of someone  _ from _ the Twilight, like the shadow beast that pulled you through before… or me. So right now your choices are to accept my help and all of the conditions that come with it, or sit here and play guardian angel for your pals here. I can tell you right now that option one might result in freeing your land from the King of the Twilight and rescuing your friends, or it might result in a horrible, painful death. Option two might result in keeping your village safe, but it ultimately won’t matter, because eventually the Twilight will cover this place too and they’ll all turn into spirits anyway. So, which is it?”

    I stare up at her, and at the one visible eye. This is the first time I’ve heard her speak without any trace of sarcasm or teasing in her voice. She’s completely serious, presenting me with the bleak facts of my new, crazy reality and offering me a choice. Not that I really really have a choice, under the circumstances.

    With a quiet sight, I nod again, and angle my path towards the village proper. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Midna relax slightly. It’s so subtle that I almost think that I’ve imagined it, but the absence of a grin or giggle as she melts back into a puddle of shadow connected to my feet would suggest otherwise. 

    Not for the first time, I find myself wondering about my strange companion. Who is she, really? Why was she looking for me in the Castle? And if she really is a being of shadow, why on earth does she want to help me fight against it?


	8. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, forewarning, this chapter gets kind of dark. Also, I made some slight adjustments to chapters one and four and just some general adjustments to format in a few other chapters, too. Please give me feedback! I made those changes based on the suggestion of a reader, and I really appreciate it because it helps me to be a better writer!

     The bulblins are still in a state of revelry when I return to the village; apparently the instructions that I’d overheard were  _ not _ intended to be immediately implemented. I probably missed that detail in my mad bid for escape. But really, I can hardly be blamed for that. I lie concealed in the shadow of a small alley, huddled as close to the wall of one of the houses as I can, fighting to ignore the sounds of laughter on the other side of the village. 

_ “Alright, time to get some supplies. I might be able to use magic, but I can’t produce food and weapons out of midair. Well, okay, I can produce them out of midair, but they have to  _ be  _ there first, if you catch my meaning. So, first things first, let’s find you a sword and shield.” _

     My ears prick up in surprise. A sword and shield? How am I supposed to use those in this form? Does that mean she knows a way for me to change back? Or does she just want them as a precaution? Well, either way, I know exactly where to go from here, and I’m more than a little relieved that it means I’m going to be headed  _ away _ from the center of the village. I use the back alleys, slipping through the little gardens scattered throughout the village.

_ “Hey. Any of these things worth eating?” _

     I pause, glancing around one of the little enclosures. There are some early berries, carrots, and greens, but I don’t know how well the latter will keep. I glance towards some of the other gardens. There’s rhubarb in one, peas in another, and plenty of herbs all around. 

_ “Today, please? And don’t worry about them spoiling; I can handle that.” _ With a slight sigh, step forward, nudging the first bunch of collard greens. I’m more than a little startled when, in a flash of reddish light, they vanish from view.  _ “Sheesh, don’t look so surprised.  _ Magic _ remember?”  _ Shaking my head slightly, I move to the next patch of edible foods and watch that disappear as well. 

     That’s how things continue until we reach Rusl’s forge, a little ways outside the edge of town. Midna cheerfully uses magic to open the door for me again and I slip inside, breathing the familiar, ashy scent that always pervades the area. Midna materializes beside me, releasing a low whistle. “Wow. When I tell you to go find weapons, you know where the good stuff is, don’t you?”

     I huff slightly in amusement, stepping towards the rack of swords, daggers, and even a few axes. There’s an entire other wall simply covered in farming tools - both new and repaired - but this is Rusl’s true playground. His best work seems untouched; we're lucky that bulblins seem not to have discovered his forge yet. Perhaps they didn't realize that he lives here. Midna eagerly joins me, reaching out to grab one of the swords, but her hand passes straight through it. My mouth curls into something akin to a smirk, but the anatomy of a wolf's face doesn’t quite let me pull it off. Still, I know that I manage to get it across when I sense her pout even without properly seeing it. 

     “Ooh!” Midna gasps suddenly, floating across the room towards Rusl’s work table, where he puts the finishing details on his weapons. I trot to her side, but where the table is at eye level to me now, I have to rear up on my hind legs, falling forward somewhat clumsily and clinging tight to the wood so that I can get a clear view of whatever caught the imp’s attention. My eyes widen slightly. 

     The newly completed tribute to the royal family lies on the table alongside its scabbard. A perfectly sharpened, single-handed cavalry sword, perfectly balanced and forged from the finest metals available, the faintly blued steel blade printed with the Hylian crest and the bronze hilt wrapped with wire.

     Yeah, we're  _ really _ lucky the bulblins haven't found the forge yet.

     "I'll just hold on to that, hm?" Midna grins, snapping her fingers so that the sword disappears in another burst of energy. "Any place we can find a shield around here?"

     I hesitate, my brows furrowed. Rusl doesn’t make armor; it requires an entirely different skill set from weaponry. He does have some that he uses to test his blades on, but frankly those have been beaten to a pulp and wouldn’t do me - or anyone else - much good in a real battle. There is, however, another possibility. I turn back to the door, slipping out, and Midna hurries after me, disappearing once again into my shadow. 

     I take the long route around the village rather than risk discovery by passing directly through it. Even so, there is one panic-filled moment along the way when one of the patrols very nearly catches sight of me. Fortunately, the man is a bit tipsy, so he doesn’t quite have the presence of mind to search for me after his initial suspicion fades away. Even so, I remain very still until I’m absolutely certain that he has moved on. Fortunately, we don’t encounter any other hiccups before we reach the pond and the little stream flowing from it.

_ “And the reason why a shield would be in a flour mill is… what now?” _

     I sigh, shaking my head slightly, the thought chased away before I can complete. The reason is that Jaggle likes to collect odd items, but there’s no need to explain that to her. Right now, I really need to be focused on figuring out how to get  _ inside _ the aforementioned flour mill without being spotted by the group of bulblins hollering what’s likely supposed to be a drinking song outside of the front door when the only window outside of their line of sight is on the second story. I glance skyward, towards the bright afternoon sun.

     Why did we decide to do this during the day again?

     I nearly leap out of my skin when something brushes against my back leg, whirling on the spot to try and figure out what it is. But the only living creature that I can see is a small brown dog that I quickly recognize as belonging to Jaggle’s family. I blink at him, bewildered, as he trots forward, sniffing curiously.

_ “You have that warrior’s smell.” _

     I actually flinch at that, staring at him in shock because I just heard him  _ speak _ . Well, maybe not  _ speak _ per say - I can’t actually hear any  _ words  _ \- but somehow, I can read his body language so perfectly that it’s as though he feeds words into my mind. How am I doing that? Did the ability just… come with this new form? Like the way I can smell emotions?

      The dog woofs, cocking his head to one side.  _ “Yes, warrior. At least, that’s what the Master’s pups call him. What are you?” _ I cringe back from the little dog, my ears flattening against my head, unsure how to answer - both literally and figuratively. But it would seem that he can read my body language just as easily as I can read his, because he relaxes, righting himself.  _ “You don’t know, but you can’t be bad if you have his smell. Do you want to get inside?” _

     My ears prick up and my new friend's tail wags eagerly in return. _ "Follow me," _ he says, turning and trotting down the slight incline towards the river. I creep after him, staying close to the shadows. We eventually pause  beside the waterwheel itself, still turning dutifully with the gentle flow of the river, and I am slightly surprised to find that there is a small, swinging door placed just beneath it, hidden from external view, obviously intended to allow the dog in and out. He pushes through easily. Where I am twice his size, it takes me considerably more effort, but once my shoulders have passed through the narrow opening, the rest of me manages it considerably more easily. The dog is already settled in his little bed, his ears raised and his eyes bright, his tail wagging slightly as I glance towards him. It’s as though I’ve unknowingly thanked him, and he’s just responded,  _ “You’re very welcome” _ . 

     If communicating with other animals is going to be this useful, then maybe I  _ don’t _ want to work on controlling my body language.

     I quietly weave my way through the maze of various items stored here, then head towards the loft on the far side of the building, where I can see a wooden shield hanging on the wall with the Ordon goat symbol burnt into the wood. Of course, now there begs the question of how the heck do I get up there when I can’t climb a ladder. After a moment’s thought, I climb onto the kitchen table, thinking that perhaps I could jump, but I quickly realize that it’s still too high. 

     My stomach grumbles, and I glance down. My eyes widen slightly as I realize for the first time that the remnants of last night’s meal are still lying on the table: goat cheese stew, berries and homemade bread. I can feel my mouth watering as I am reminded - yet again - that I haven’t had anything to eat in over twenty-four hours. I don’t know if wolves are strictly carnivorous or what, but right now, I don’t care. I practically inhale the stew, then snap up the bread and berries as well. 

     A low bark catches my attention, and I glance up towards the dog, now on his feet, legs braced, his expression one that I can only describe as  _ scandalized _ . 

_ “You mustn’t eat Master’s food! That’s not allowed!” _

     I cock my head slightly to one side.  _ “Why?” _

_  “Because Master could still come home! It must be there when he comes back!” _

     I cringe, my ears flattening, and glance away.  _ “He isn’t coming back.” _

_  “What? How do you know?” _

     A glance up, and a heavy gaze.  _ “I know.” _

_ “Do you know where he is?” _

     My head lifts and I feel my hackles settle.  _ “Yes.” _

_  “Show me?” _

     I pause, glancing up towards the shield. Which has, inexplicably, vanished.  _ “Don’t worry; I’ve got you covered,” _ Midna’s voice smirks in my head.  _ “Seems kind of cheap compared to the sword, but I guess we’ll take what we can get. Now, can we make one last stop before we head to the Twilight? That cheese smelled really good. Anyplace we can get more of that?” _ I huff, but jump down from the table, glancing expectantly towards the dog, and he hurries to my side.  _ “Why is he following us now?” _

     Oh. Right. Midna can’t follow our silent conversation. Too bad, I guess, because I’m not feeling inclined to translate. Actually, I’m not even sure if I  _ can _ translate, but it doesn’t really matter anyway. Whether she considers me her servant or not, I don’t need to explain myself. 

     Together we slip out of the water mill, then pause, listening to the noise of the bulblins. I lead the way around the village and through the goat pastures, which I quickly discover are currently being inhabited by the giant boars that the bulblin slavers ride. I can read their body language too, although not quite as well as I can read the dog’s. Still, what little I am able to ‘hear’ assures me that I’d really rather not talk to them anyway. 

     It’s about halfway across the field when I smell it: the mystery scent that had made me feel so ill when I was watching Jaggle and Mayor Bo. I pause, sniffing curiously until I can determine the direction of the source, then I take a few cautious steps towards it. Beside me, the dog cringes, a low whine escaping his throat, his tail tucking between his legs. 

_ “What is it?” _

_      “You don’t want to go there.” _

_      “Why?” _

_      “Death.” _

_      “What?” _

_      “It’s where death is.” _

     I stare at him for a few seconds, momentarily convinced - or at least momentarily trying to convince myself - that I have misinterpreted him. But when he turns his mournful, dark eyes towards mine, I can’t lie to myself any longer.

_ No _ .

     I dash up the low rise as though dragged by some invisible force, heart pounding and stomach churning. Once I reach the summit, the world seems to stop.

_ No! _

     The pile of bodies thrown into the depression includes at least a dozen people, all with faces and names that I should recognize, except that each and every one of them have been burned, their bodies and the grass around them blackened, smoke still faintly rising from the charred clothing. The only thing that I can make out clearly, sticking out from underneath the body of someone that had tried to protect her, is the long dark hair and small hand of Saria, the butcher’s three-year old daughter, now pale and still in death.

_ Oh Goddesses. _

     I cough and choke, panting and gasping around the bile as I scramble back, the contents of my stomach suddenly emptied on the hillside as I tear my eyes away from the sight. They fall instead on the village, on the smoke rising from the center. 

     I hear the laughter and the world crashes down around me.

_ Smoke billows in my face and I recoil, trying to use my arms to shield myself from the heat. _

_      I hear her screaming.  _

_      I don’t know if it’s from pain, or if she’s telling me to run. _

_      The roof collapses.  _

_      Silence. _

_      Then my own voice, screaming itself hoarse before the laughter shocks me silent and a man steps around the corner, eyes gleaming in the firelight as sparks fly around his curled horns, teeth bared in a grin.  _

_      Then the pounding of feet in time with my own heart, the blistered hand clutched in mine, the wide, teary hazel eyes of a child distraught with fear and pain and grief, the thunderous pounding of the hooves of the boars. The pricking against my leg and the crippling knowledge that I’m never going to see her again. _

_      I’m never going to see her again. _

_ Never again. _

     I lurch back into consciousness, recoiling sharply with a sound somewhere between a whine and a growl as I feel something wet on my face. When the world comes back into focus I can see my canine companion, whining softly with his ears flat and his tail tucked between his legs. 

_ “Hurting. You were hurting,”  _ he whimpers. 

     I blink at him, and am surprised to feel tears sliding down my oddly-shaped face. My eyes fall to my paws, to the strange triangular mark, then to the hillside as I struggle to take in my surroundings. I’m lying at the bottom of the hill, instead of the top, where I had been. Did I fall down? It’s not impossible, I suppose. There was enough of an incline for me to slide down if I had lost my balance in the midst of my flashback. It wouldn’t be the first time that something like that had happened.

     A soft woof, and I see the dog cautiously approaching.  _ “Are you better?” _

__ I’m not entirely sure how to answer that. That was the longest flashback that I’ve had in months - at least an hour, judging by the position of the sun. I may be conscious, but I’m still shaking. I don’t know if I can stand, actually. Not the best of circumstances given all that we need to accomplish in the two or so remaining hours of sunlight we have. 

     I startle slightly when I feel a gentle nudge, and realize that the dog is headbutting me softly, prompting me to rise to my feet. My lips try to tug into a smile, then slowly, cautiously, I gather my legs underneath me and stumble to my feet, shaking my head as a wave of dizziness washes over me. I shoot one more glance towards the summit of the hill, then shudder and turn away. The dog presses close to my side, supporting me as best he can as I stumble my way across the remainder of the pasture, idly turning my steps along a path that my feet know better than my head at this point.

     Dwelling on what’s happened isn’t going to help anyone. I can’t bring the dead back to life. I have to move forward to save those that still live.  

_ “Hey Wolfy, what happened back there? I kept trying to talk to you, but it was like your mind completely shut down,” _ Midna’s voice comes to me, cautious with maybe a thread of irritation. I shake my head weakly; there’s no way for me to explain this without actual words, so I really shouldn’t even try.  _ “Ugh. One of these days you’re going to have to communicate, you know that? The ‘strong and silent’ act gets old real quick, I’ll have you know. You’ll never win over your lady love with that kind of attitude.” _ I’m too tired to protest, verbally or by any other means, and so the imp falls grumpily silent. 

     We stop outside of the goat barn, and I frown up at it, trying to remember why on earth we’re here. Eventually I realize that we weren’t trying to come here at all, but rather to my house, and the cheese-making room. But, since we’re here anyway…

     I push my way inside, and am immediately greeted by the panicked bleats of the fifty or so goats prancing anxiously behind their stall gates, their nostrils flared with the smells of smoke, meat, and now, wolf. There’s so much movement happening around me that I’m finding my own senses overwhelmed with the number of messages flashing towards me at once:

_ “Danger!” _

_      “Monster, you won’t-” _

_      “- done to us-” _

_      “- beasts in our home-” _

_      “Danger!!” _

_      “- the masters -” _

_      “-wrong with his scent?” _

_      “DANGER!!”  _

     Before I can contain it, a sharp bark explodes from my chest, and I send a fierce glare around the room. To my surprise, the majority of them fall silent, their body language fading from the equivalent of frantic shouting to anxious mutters. I feel myself relax slightly, until I catch a message that I wasn’t expecting out of the corner of my eye.

_ “Link?” _

     I stiffen, focusing on an old bellwether with its head cocked curiously in my direction, its dark eyes soft and intelligent.  _ “You smell like him. And you speak like him,”  _ he seems to say. 

     I allow my head to dip forward slightly.  _ “I am him. I’m sorry for what’s happened.” _

     The shifting turns into agitated whispering as I step forward and rear up on my hind legs, using my teeth to grip the metal pin holding his pen closed and yanking it free. When I step back, he moves forward, walking patiently into the open. He seems so much  _ bigger _ than me now. It takes all my willpower not to duck away when he leans over me, gently brushing my forehead with the tip of his nose.  _ “It was not your fault. Now what do you wish us to do?” _

     I lift my head, new determination burning in my chest.  _ “I want you to run away. Leave the pasture. Scatter in the forest.” _

_ “But-” _

_ “Why?” _

_      “What did he ask?” _

_      “- not safe -” _

_      “Danger!” _

_ “We will do it,”  _ the bellwether interrupts, walking towards the main door. I nod, then continue to move around the room, pulling pins and setting the goats free. In the process, the dog trots up to me, his expression one of concern.

_ “Why do this?” _

_      “So the monsters can’t have them.” _

_      “But the Master can’t either.” _

_      “I prefer this to the alternative,” _ I reply simply, pulling the last pin. Then I run out of the barn, ready to help break down the fence in any way that I can. Only to discover that there’s no need. The bellwether already hooked his horn underneath the top bar of the fence posts and pulled it loose, opening the way for the herd to hop the lower bar and follow him into the Ordona Forest. I nod to myself in satisfaction, then turn towards Mayor Bo’s -  _ my _ \- house in order to fulfill Midna’s earlier request. And speaking of the imp -

_      “Smart, Wolfy,” _ she muses approvingly.  _ “Guess you’re not completely useless after all.” _

     I huff, a little bit insulted by that assertion, but I’ll have to wait before I can actively complain about it.

_ “Is Master here?”  _ the dog asks, running up the hill alongside me.

_      “No.” _

     He cocks his head to one side. _ “Then why…?” _

_      “Wait here.”  _ He sits obediently, and I jump onto the back porch. I see a tell-tale flicker of Midna’s magic around the knob, and the door swings open. 

     Unlike the mill or Rusl’s forge, the bulblins have obviously ransacked our house. The kitchen is a mess, the tables overturned and the remnants of the dinner I never got to eat scattered across the floor. I weave through the wreckage, my stomach twisting. Hungry though I may be, especially after throwing up, I’m too nauseous to eat anything.

     I glance towards the ladder leading up to my loft, but there’s no way for me to get up there anyway, so I probably shouldn’t worry about whatever damage the bulblins may have caused to it. Midna appears beside me, her expression eager as she darts towards the cheese room. “Oh yeah, this’ll do nicely!” I hear her call cheerfully, and the sound is quickly followed by the soft snap of magic that usually precedes when something disappears. I, on the other hand, find myself drawn down the hallway, towards the second door on the left. 

     Ilia’s room. 

     The moment I step inside, a familiar, soothing scent seems to wash over me, washing away a little of the horror of the day and conjuring in its place mental images of summer picnics by Ordona Spring and horseback rides through Faron Woods and gentle hands wiping away tears in the darkness of the night. I desperately wish that she was here to do that now, to wake me up from this nightmare and tell me that everything is going to be alright, to find that Saria and the others aren’t dead, that Ilia hasn’t been dragged off to face unknown horrors without me by her side. 

     I close my eyes, banishing such thoughts behind a padlocked door in my mind and thinking instead about how strange it is that I’ve somehow unconsciously managed to learn Ilia’s scent so thoroughly. It truly is a comforting smell. Calming, even. Maybe that’s why I find myself nosing at her pillow, where her scent is strongest, desperate to lock away such dark thoughts. Then, to my surprise, I discover underneath it a leather cord strung with eight wooden beads and a wooden horseshoe amulet positioned in the center.

     My heart constricts and my stomach flips in a strange way as I stare at it. 

_ I  _ made this for her, over two years ago. I carved the beads and amulet myself and asked Uli’s help to dye them, then I gave it to her as a necklace on her birthday - a thank you for everything that she had done for me. She wore it every day for a year, but eventually the leather cord had frayed and snapped, and she’d never gotten around to replacing it. It would seem that she hadn’t thrown it away though. She’d taken the shortened cord and tied two more beads to either end, turning it instead into a little charm and placing it under her pillow, within easy reach whenever she had nightmares. 

     Ilia’s nightmares.

_      Bulblins. _

_      Grotesque black monsters with really long arms. _

_ It's like there's a permanent sunset. _

_      You died. _

_      Pretty ridiculous, right? Thinking that these dreams might come true. _

_      In Nayru’s name. All these years, we thought it was just a coincidence when she found me… But then, were they all true? Every nightmare Ilia ever had… But how is that even possible?  _

     “Hm? Find anything good?” I jump when I hear Midna right next to my ear, cutting off my train of thought. I really need to stop doing that, but I  _ really _ don’t like it when she moves around in this shadow form. She doesn’t make any sound or give off any kind of scent… it’s unnerving. She peers down at the little charm as though she hadn’t noticed my reaction, but her smirk says otherwise. 

_      By the Goddesses, she’s doing it on purpose! _

     “This is pretty,” the imp muses, her fingers fluttering close to it, but then pulling away. It’s a good thing that she doesn’t try to touch it; even knowing that her hand would pass through it in this form, I think I would growl at her if she did. “Does it belong to your lady love?” she smirks. I glare at her, but I can’t refute the thrill of tension that passes through me at her question. Midna giggles and takes a step back. “We can take it with us if you want. I imagine you wouldn’t want those creeps to find it, would you.” 

_ What put her in such a good mood? _ I can’t help but wonder as I frown at her. She grins broadly, as though she can see my suspicion, dancing on the spot as she waits patiently for me to nod. Another giggle and a snap of her fingers, and the charm vanishes to whatever plane Midna is carrying everything in. 

     I'll take the time to figure out the mystery of Ilia's nightmares another day.

     “Well, come along Wolfy. Things to do and places to be and all that!” She ducks back into my shadow, leaving me to roll my eyes and cast one last, mournful glance over the room before I return outside. My new canine friend perks up when he sees me, rising to his feet, tail wagging. 

_ “We’re going to Master now?” _

_      “Yes.” _

     I leap down to the grass, glancing towards the barn one last time. The goats have all disappeared now. If they’re lucky, the villagers will find them, but at the very least the bulblins won’t be able to use them for meat. That will leave them with just the pond, the forest itself, and the gardens as food sources - and Midna and I have scrounged most of what’s currently edible from the latter source already. 

     I hope that they all starve.

     They deserve it after what they’ve done.

     We head into the forest from there, using my scent map to guide us back to where the villagers had been camping. When we arrive, there’s probably only a little more than an hour of daylight left. My doggy companion rushes forward, sniffing eagerly at the trees and around the fire. 

_ “He was here! He was here!” _

_      “Do you think you can follow him on your own?” _

_      “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” _

     I feel a rumble in my chest, less like a growl and more like a chuckle. I suppose it’s the closest that a dog gets to a purr.  _ “I have to go then. Good luck.” _

_ “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” _ the dog seems to yip back, then he rushes deeper into the forest, following the scent trail of his family. I watch him go with a strange sense of sadness. I want to go with him, but I can’t. There are other people relying on me, other people that I need to protect.

     “So, are we done with detours?” Midna asks next to me. I twitch, but manage to resist the instinct to jump away from her this time. She cocks her eyebrow at me, her yellow-red eye bright slightly accusing. I sigh, but nod, and her expression immediately morphs into a grin. “Good boy. Then let’s head back to where you first tumbled into the Twilight, hm?”

     I feel myself stiffen slightly before I force myself to turn and walk in the direction of Faron Woods, ignoring Midna’s questioning look before she vanishes from view.  _ Good boy _ . That’s what Ilia used to call me. It was our inside joke. What would she say if she could see me now? I shake my head to clear it. If I want to ask her, then I have to find her first, and that means no more distractions. Let’s just head back to the Twilight and-

     A shrill scream rings through the trees, turning the blood in my veins to ice. 

     I don't even pause to think. I just race towards the victim, streaking among the shadows, ignoring Midna's exclamations in my head.

     "Uli!"

     "Rusl, no!"

_ Clang! _

     "Agh!"

_ No!! _ "

     A second later I burst out of the trees, a ferocious snarl erupting from my throat.

     Three figures.

     Two on the ground.

     One with a sword.

_ Never again!! _

     Red eyes consume my field of vision. 

     The bitter scent of sweat fills my nostrils.

     A crunch and a gurgling gasp snaps in my ears.

     The taste of copper and iron rushes into my mouth.

     A fading pulse beats against my lips.

_ Goddesses-! _

     I recoil sharply, choking and gagging, all of my senses flooded with the sight and the scent and the sound and the taste and the feel of blood. My stomach churns in a nauseating way as I paw frantically at my face, trying to get it  _ off _ of me, but that only spreads it to my hands -  _ paws _ \- and suddenly I understand that the Twilight has not only changed my physical appearance.

     A sharp gasp causes me to turn, still panting, tongue lolling from my mouth.

     Uli and Rusl stare at me, eyes wide in horror, clinging to one another. Rusl instinctively shifts in front of his wife, reaching for his fallen sword, even though I can see that his wrist is rapidly swelling and his torso is heavily bandaged. 

     A low whine builds in my throat. I can feel my ears pressing flat against the top of my head, my lips peeling back from my teeth, my tail -  _ Oh Goddesses, I forgot I have a tail! _ \- tucking between my legs as I back away and stumble over the leg of the man I killed. I glance towards him, at the blood pouring from the puncture wounds in his neck, staining his leather armor, and all at once my courage fails me and all I can think to do is run.


	9. Chapter Eight

     I lie curled in the bole of a grand oak, my ears still pressed flat to my skull, my nose buried in a patch of wildflowers, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

     I can still feel it matted in my fur. I can still smell it. Still  _ taste _ it.

     I close my eyes tightly, trying not to wretch again. Nothing would come up even if I did, but every time feels like a reset, like I have to begin the process of accepting what I've done all over again.

     "Did you really think that you wouldn’t have to kill anyone?"

     I glance up, lifting my chin from my paws, towards a shadowy outline of Midna's impish form, her single eye bright and cold, her arms folded across her midsection. "This is war. People are going to die. If it hadn't been him, it would've been those two friends of yours, just like the ones in the field. So quit feeling sorry for yourself and-!"

     The snarl that bursts from my chest is enough to startle her into silence. I'm glaring at her, braced on all four legs, halfway upright, hackles raised, teeth bared, tail thrashing. I've never wished to speak more than I do right now. If I could, I would shout at her that she doesn't know  _ anything _ about me, that she doesn't know how much blood is on my hands, that she doesn't know how many years I've had to live wondering when I would take a life again, but never expecting that when it happened, I would do it with teeth and claws rather than a sword. 

     I want to demand to know if she's ever killed before. If she's ever woken up screaming in the middle of the night haunted by the eyes of the man whose blood she spilled. If she's ever had to cling to her best friend, struggling to believe it when she reassures her for the third night in a row that she's not a murderer. If she's ever stared at her hands and inexplicably seen them turn red. If she's ever tasted someone else's blood. 

     And if she's ever done all that knowing that she would kill again in a heartbeat to protect the ones she cares about, to keep from losing anyone else. 

     She blinks at me, a strange expression overtaking her face. There is definitely shock, confusion, and maybe anger, or at least irritation. But underneath it all there seems to be something else. Something softer. Something that makes me feel a little more nauseous than I already am. 

     Could it be pity? 

     "You… You're  _ not _ new to this, are you," she says quietly. 

     It's not a question. I'm sure that my glance away is answer enough. She sighs wearily, leaning back on thin air and grumbling under her breath. "Great. Just great." She glowers at me, arms folded across her chest, chewing her lip with her extra-long fang. "Look, my abilities are limited in light, so I need to know that I can trust you to fight, got it? So is this gonna be a regular thing, or can you handle a little blood now and then?"

     I snort quietly. We both know that I'm going to have to deal with a lot more than just a little blood in the next who-knows-how-long. We  _ are _ at war after all, as she has so  _ kindly _ pointed out. But still, I force myself to straighten up, glaring defiantly up at her. She smirks, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "In that case, what are we waiting for?" she practically purrs. "Let's go."

     I glance in the direction of the secret valley one last time before I turn towards Faron Woods. I know that from a practical standpoint, I’ve done all I can for the villagers, but that won’t keep me from worrying about them. 

     The sun has disappeared from my immediate view as I run through the forest, steering clear of the main paths. Only a few shafts of light filter weakly through the leaves now; within the hour, they will have faded completely. The trip back towards Ordona Spring is a lot quicker than the one leaving it had been, mostly because I now have a much better sense of the game trails than I did before. Even so, it takes close to an hour to reach it, at which point the last rays of sunlight have all but vanished.

_ “Wait.” _

     I freeze, practically skidding to a stop at the head of the short trail leading into the Spring. 

     That voice. I don’t know how, but I know that voice. It speaks more like Midna does in my head than the way animals communicate with me, and anyway I can’t see any animals around me, so who…? Actually, come to think of it, the world seems to have gone very quiet all of the sudden, - the wind, the birds and even the insects - as though nature itself is holding its breath. 

_ “You who have been transformed by the power of shadow. Come to my Spring.” _

     A strange shiver seems to pass down my spine, lifting my hackles and tensing my shoulders. There’s someone else that knows about the Twilight?

_ “You hear that too, right Wolfy?” _ comes the sound of Midna’s uncertain voice. If  _ she _ can hear it, then I can’t just be going crazy, can I?

_ “Come, hero. Hurry!” _

     Galvanized into action, I turn down the path towards the Ordona Spring, trotting into the pool at the base of the rocks just as the sun disappears completely below the horizon. 

     Another horrible, heart-stopping  _ CRACK!!  _ echoes through the air, and I stare upwards straight at another hole in the sky, marked with red, its depths swirling like a vortex.

_ Oh no. _

_ “Beware, Link! A shadow beast approaches!” _

_      “Aw, great,”  _ Midna groans.  _ “Guess this is what we get for listening to creepy disembodied voices. Watch out, Wolfy - or is it actually Link? Would explain a lot - this is the same kind of pain in the butt that dragged you into this whole mess to begin with.” _

     I stare in mixed fascination and horror as shadows seem to flow from the mouth of the strange portal, congealing at a single point at the edge of the water and taking an ominously familiar shape before they suddenly roll off of the physical being underneath it, much as had happened when the bulblins appeared here yesterday. A chill runs down my spine as I realize what Midna had meant.

     The creature lifting its head before me is just over twice my size, almost obscenely muscular, and has a vaguely humanoid body, but with long, gangly arms almost twice the length of its legs. There are markings similar to Midna’s scattered across its body, but red instead of turquoise. But strangest of all is the huge mask marked by unfamiliar runes covering its entire face, greasy strands of hair protruding from all sides. How the beast can see through that thing, I haven’t the slightest idea, but it would certainly seem that it  _ can _ see, given that its head twists towards me and it tenses in apparent recognition. 

     A sound somewhere between a shriek and a howl tears from its throat. A challenge. One that I can’t afford to refuse. I snarl back at the monster, my lips peeling back from my teeth, my legs braced and my tail thrashing. 

_      “You want my recommendation? Go for the jugular,”  _ Midna growls darkly

_ “No. Destroy the mask. That is the source of its power.” _

_      “Okay seriously, who are you and why are you hacking my headspace?” _

     I find myself silently willing them to shut up; I can hardly hear myself think. Thankfully, the strange newcomer in my head doesn’t seem inclined to be goaded into a verbal conflict. A good thing, since the ‘shadow beast’ is charging me. I dash to one side, barely retaining the instinct to dive into a roll as somersaults are hardly practical in a wolf’s body. Fortunately, although fast and definitely powerful judging by the way the air whistles through its claws, the creature also seems clumsy, and badly coordinated. Honestly if I were to guess, I would say that it’s even less comfortable in its own skin than I’m feeling in mine. It’s something that I’ll have to use to my advantage in order to defeat the beast. I dodge another swing and dart around it, then, before I can second-guess myself, I charge, gathering my strength and leaping straight onto the monster’s back.

     The shadow beast shrieks in defiance, its huge, ungainly hands grabbing for me, but never quite reaching as I dig my front claws into its shoulders and give in to the instinct to latch my jaws around its neck. The moment my teeth pierce flesh I regret it, as my mouth is instantly flooded with the brackish taste of the monster’s blood. I recoil, and as the beast lurches and howls, I’m quickly thrown off of my perch. 

_ “You know, you’re really going to have to get over that,” _ Midna sighs as I simultaneously fight back a gag and try not to swallow. I growl softly. She’s not the one who’s had other people's blood in her mouth twice in one day.

     The shadow beast swings back towards me, its arms shaking, anger rippling in every twitch of its body, blood spilling over its shoulders and down its back and chest. I manage to push aside the wave of nausea that results from seeing my handiwork, mustering up a snarl in its place and walking at a carefully measured pace as my opponent starts trying to circle me, obviously wary by the way it watches me. Every muscle in my body is as tense and coiled as a spring at this point, my eyes darting to every twitch and every movement that the shadow beast makes. It’s practically a contest of wills now, a challenge to see who will charge first. 

_ If you're ever caught in a duel, remember to split your focus between your opponent and your surroundings. If you're too focused on your enemy, then you could end up blindsided by what's happening around you. And you never know when you might gain an advantage because you notice something that your enemy doesn't. _

     My father's voice seems to come unbidden to my head. I manage to tear my eyes away from the monster, instead urgently searching my surroundings.

     There.

     A tree root slightly lifted out of the sand at the bottom of the Spring. The shadow beast should be right on top of it in five, four, three, two…

_ Now! _

     I charge, and after a startled moment, my opponent rushes forward too, only to trip on the root that I noticed before and stumble in the moment before I leap. This time, I manage to seize the edge of the mask in my mouth and rip it off.

     Instantly, a terrible scream tears from the creature's throat and it staggers back, clawing at its own skin. Then it suddenly turns and runs, as though desperate to get out of the water. Why, I can’t fathom. But it’s an opportunity that I can’t pass up.

     I press my attack, racing forward and leaping on the creature’s back once again, digging my claws in before I bite down around his neck and instinctively shake my head sharply from side to side, my fangs ripping and tearing at his flesh. This time, when the monster cries out in pain, the sound is strangled, rattling through his half-crushed windpipe. And when I release my grip and leap away, panting heavily through the overpowering stench of blood, he doesn’t whirl back around to face me, but rather staggers and collapses, convulsing as the life drains out of him. 

     But strangest of all, instead of merely growing still in death, his body seems to shrivel, then vanish in a burst of shadow that dissipates in the breeze. 

_ What in the world? _

     I step forward curiously, towards a significantly smaller figure lying on the ground in the monster's place, bearing the same wounds that I inflicted on the shadow beast. This creature is short, tubby, with blue-gray and black skin and symbols similar to the red ones that had been there before, but they are no longer glowing. Its blood, now that I can see it, seems too dark to be normal: black or dark blue instead of red, and its eyes, glazed over in death, are a pale yellow. All in all, it looks suspiciously reminiscent of the imp that has just appeared beside me, her extra-long fang bared as she growls in the back of her throat.

     “Bastard,” Midna hisses, glowering down at the strange being. I tilt my head up at her, eyes narrowed curiously, but she just shakes her head. “His body will have disintegrated by morning. His kind can’t survive in a world of light.” She sighs bitterly and glances back towards the Spring. “Looks like my cue to leave,” she mutters, then vanishes once more. Confused, I turn towards the water.

     My eyes widen as the stones surrounding Ordona Spring begin to glow with a soft, golden light, illuminating swirling symbols that I’ve never noticed before. A moment later, the water itself begins to glow as well, spreading outward from the rocks until the entire Spring has been illuminated. Then, right at the center of the pool, there’s a soft ripple, a splash, and a sphere of light rises into the air, growing in size and brilliance until I have to close my eyes to keep them from being overwhelmed. 

     Once the light seems to have settled down, I crack them open again, then gasp in surprise, because now, holding the sphere in its curved horn, stands an Ordon goat made completely out of light, her eyes soft and intelligent as she gazes down on me. Her size and the sheer force of her presence make the old bellwether earlier seem like a newborn kid, and I can’t help but quail before her, instinctively lying down on my stomach as I gaze up with wide eyes. It's not that she frightens me, per se. It's more like something about her posture, her body language, demands absolute respect from anyone around her.

     I may be a wolf, but this otherworldly being is most certainly the alpha here.

_ “We meet again, Link. I am one of four light spirits that protect Hyrule at the behest of the gods. My name is Ordona.” _

     My shoulders tense, my eyes widening.  _ “We meet… again?” _ I don’t know if I’m actually communicating my thoughts to her the way she is to me, or if she’s reading my body language the way Jaggle’s dog did, but in either case her body vibrates, her eyes sparkling as though she’s chuckling softly in amusement.

_      “Yes. Again. Did you not wonder how your wounds were healed after the bulblins’ initial attack?” _

     My breath hitches in my throat as the memory of the voice I’d heard just before waking up in the Spring last night floods through me, the shock of finding that horrific scar on my chest, the questions that had arisen before memories of Ilia’s capture drove such thoughts from my mind.  _ “That was you? You saved me?” _

_      “Yes, young one. I could not let one such as you, one with an unbreakable spirit - the soul of a wolf - die before your destiny was fulfilled.” _

_      “The soul of a wolf? Unbreakable spirit? What do you mean? What destiny are you talking about?” _

_      “I fear that it is not my place to explain the nature of your current form, brave one. But as to your destiny… The kingdom has been reduced to a netherworld ruled by the cursed powers of darkness, and the blight will not stop with Hyrule. It is your fate to save this land and ultimately the entire world of light from the King of Shadows.” _

_      “How can  _ I  _ save the world?” _

__ She seems to smile at that, her posture softening.  _ “You still have not discovered your true power. When you do, I promise that you will never again doubt your true calling.” _

_      “I’m still confused. Setting the question of fate or destiny or my calling aside, what am I meant to do? How do I get rid of the Twilight?” _

_      “Your unusual traveling companion is better suited to answer the specifics of that question than I.” _

_      “Midna?” _

_      “But perhaps explaining how the Twilight came to fall across the land to begin with will help you to understand. First, know that the black beast you slew was a being of shadow that had come to seal away the power of light that I wield, as its comrades have done in the other provinces of Hyrule. My brethren - Faron, Eldin, and Lanayru - have already had their light sealed away by these fell beasts. Without their light to protect them, their lands were thus easily susceptible to the dark king’s power.”  _ The light spirit tosses her head slightly, lifting herself to her full height as she gazes regally down at me.  _ “Link, return to Faron Woods where you first transformed. Free the light spirit trapped there, then, by his power, you may find the means to regain your other state of being, and perhaps begin to learn the truth of who and what you are.” _

_      “The truth… Wait! Where are you-?!” _

_      “May the Goddesses go with you, hero.” _

     She vanishes in a burst of light, leaving me gaping and blinking as my eyes readjust to the darkness of night. She just… left? After dropping something like  _ that  _ on my shoulders?  _ I’m _ supposed to save the world? I’m not some hero. Sure, I know how to fight, but Midna was right to be worried earlier. How the heck am I supposed to save  _ anyone _ when I can’t even protect my friends without collapsing from the guilt of taking a life or the fear of losing my own? I huff irritably as I turn around, walking towards the entrance to the Spring.

     Only to pause, gazing at the body of the shadow being I killed. My stomach squirms, and I belatedly realize that I still have the residual taste of his blood on my tongue, the smell of it rising from my fur. I glance uncertainly towards the place where Ordona had vanished, then walk back into the water and crouch down, dipping my face in it, pawing at my chest and mouth to wash away all traces of blood, my thoughts spinning all the while. 

     Hero or not, after everything that I’ve seen in the past twenty-four hours, I can at least believe that I’m not normal. And anyway, if I have a chance to save my friends, then I guess I have to fight, even if the thought does terrify me. Although, if I’m being completely honest with myself, I’m not sure that I would want it any other way. My eyes flicker towards the body at the edge of the Spring once more. 

     If the day ever comes that I no longer care about the lives I take, that will be the day that I truly become a monster. Because becoming desensitized to death, desensitized to killing… That sounds like the only thing more horrifying than the necessity of killing itself. 

     Taking a deep breath, I rise to my feet and trot out of the pool, shaking the water from my fur as best I can. The action makes me a little dizzy and I have to take a moment to regain my balance before continuing on. Once I have, I quickly run out of the clearing, turning once more towards the bridge between Ordona and Faron Provinces. I relish in the cool breeze that flows through the canyon as I cross, briefly pausing in the middle and allowing my eyes to flutter closed. When I open them again, I gaze out across the beautiful nightscape spread out below me. It’s strange to say, but I don’t know that I’ve ever taken the time to absorb this view before now.

     The cliffs drop steeply downward on either side, cleaved in two by the river some fifty meters below me. I can’t see them in the rapidly fading light, but on clear days, one can see the head of the river, formed by two waterfalls several miles away. Trees line the stone walls, digging into the slightest of footholds as though in defiance of the laws of nature itself. The wash of green continues all the way to the water’s edge, reflected in the smooth surface at some points, and scattered by the sprays of foam in others. A flock of birds flies past me, some above the bridge, some below, before darting earthward to seek refuge in the treetops at the river’s edge. As they land, my eye is drawn to some slight movement in the bushes nearby, and then the doe and her fawn that step to the water to drink. There’s something about just that simple action that makes me want to smile.

     This world… It’s a world worth saving.

     It feels surreal when I approach the impersonal wall of grayish magic resting across the path just on the other side of the bridge. Honestly, it seems to have gotten closer to the cliff’s edge in the day since I was last here. Midna appears beside me the moment we fall under its shadow, her eyes strangely guarded even as she turns to smirk at me. 

     “Well, here we are! Right where you fell into this whole mess. The Faron Woods you know so well, now covered in Twilight.” Her smile fades slightly as she turns towards the wall of shadows. “You may not be able to come back here, so before I pull you through, I have to ask one more time: are you sure you want to go?”

     I glance curiously towards the imp. Before, it hadn’t really seemed like she cared much about my opinion. It was like all that mattered was what she wanted. While I’m still fairly certain her motivations for helping me are largely selfish, there’s a sense of vulnerability in her simple question, like something about this situation has brought back a painful memory. Nevertheless, when I nod to her, Midna doesn’t hesitate to float forward, placing her hand against the wall. Unlike when I tried to touch the wall yesterday, there’s no snap of electricity at her touch. Instead, there’s a ripple, softening the wall of magic and allowing the imp to pass through to the other side. 

     Silence. Then in a burst of energy, a giant hand shoots out of the wall, snatching me around my middle and pulling me back into a world of shadows.


	10. Chapter Nine

     I stagger unsteadily to my feet, blinking uncertainly as I struggle to regain my bearings. The world has turned that unnatural orange-gray color. It smells like Faron, like fresh earth and clean air, but it  _ feels _ all wrong. Oppressive and dark. Everything has gone  _ silent _ , heightening the impression that I’ve been trapped in a tiny cage. It’s unnerving in a way that I didn’t have time to notice before, when the shadow beast first dragged me through the barrier. There are no birds, no insects, not even the slightest breeze to rustle the treetops, although here and there I see pale blue lights flickering among the trees. Probably animals, birds or squirrels turned to spirits and trapped in here just like every other creature from my world.  

     “So these are the weapons you use in your world?”

     I crane my head back over my shoulder to see that Midna has regained solid form and now perches on my back, the wooden shield hooked in front of her face - not unlike the way that the shadow beasts wore those masks - and the sword held in both hands as she tugs it awkwardly from its sheath. She yelps in surprise when it suddenly comes loose, the blade flying dangerously close to my ear before it thuds point first into the path, gleaming in the low light. 

     I twist a little further so that I can see Midna’s eye around her impromptu mask. She must see the utter lack of amusement in my expression, because she at least has the decency to blush through her awkward giggle. “Maybe I’ll just hold onto these for you, yeah?” she says, managing to sound nonchalant as she snaps her fingers so that the two objects vanish in a flash of magic. “Alright! I trust you enough to help, so,  _ Linky, _ let me spell out your duties as my servant for you, shall I?”

     I sigh wearily at her new choice of nickname, but at least it’s better than  _ Wolfy _ . I’m not too happy with the idea of being this obnoxious imp’s servant either, but I did promise, didn’t I?

     “Well to start, you’re my war-time escort, so basically, I’m gonna need you to help me fend off all of the creeps that infest the Twilight in your world, help me to free the Spirits of Light, and then when things are bright and happy again, I need you to gather some things for me. Look, I can’t tell you all the details now, but it’ll be easy.  _ Trust  _ me,” she adds when I continue to glare dubiously at her. “But enough about that. We'd better get going, don't you think? Don’t blame me for your world’s fate if you don’t hurry up and free that light spirit,” she smirks, lounging across my back and inspecting her nails as she hums a melody I’ve never heard before. 

     I shake my head slightly as I take start off towards the Faron Spirit Spring. Of course I don’t actually know that’s where the spirit is imprisoned, but it seems like the most likely place. And besides, as obnoxious as she is, I get the sense that Midna will waste no time in telling me if I make a mistake.

     Just like before, I slip off of the main path as a precaution, traveling as close to it as I can while remaining out of sight. Trying to keep stealthy enough to remain undetected is a lot harder here than in Ordona, however. Without the usual ambient sounds of a forest, every noise I make seems to be amplified, whether that’s brushing up against a tree or accidentally stepping on a fallen branch. I can hear Midna hiss through her teeth with every little creak or snap, which means it’s not just my enhanced hearing that’s making things seem worse than they really are. 

     “Okay, this isn’t working,” she grumbles, seizing my ear and pulling me out onto the main path, her fingers catching on one of my earrings in the process. I yip from the pain before I can stop myself, shake free of her grip and glower at her. She glowers right back, folding her arms across her chest. “Look, trying to sneak around isn’t doing us any good, so unless you know a shortcut through the woods, we might as well trade stealth for speed, got it?” I roll my eyes at her, but she’s not wrong, so I start running, constantly scanning ahead of us for any signs of danger, pushing my enhanced senses to their limit. 

     Maybe that’s part of why I suddenly freeze about twenty minutes into our journey, urgently searching the woods to our right.

     “Whoa, there! What’s up, Linky?”

     I shake my head slowly, taking a few steps forward, peering carefully through the trees. Just for a moment, I could have sworn that I saw something  _ gold _ flickering along beside us. There’s no sign of it now, though. No scent, no sound, no nothing. With a quiet huff, I begin to turn away, only to pause again, startled, at the sight of a blue sphere crossing the path in front of me. 

     Only, it’s  _ not _ just a blue sphere anymore. Instead, I see a small blue fox, its body completely translucent, its ears pricked up as it looks blankly in our direction, its head cocked to one side.  _ “Strange. I could have sworn I heard something,” _ she seems to say, then turns and continues onward, lowering her head to the ground in the pursuit of some scent or other. 

     “My, my,” Midna muses, following my gaze. “You’re progressing even faster than I’d thought you would if you can see their physical forms already. You were starting to hear them back at Hyrule Castle. Keep practicing, and maybe you’ll start to pick up their scents, too.”

     I glance back at her, my eyes wide. She smirks, but doesn’t elaborate further, instead digging her heels into my sides in an obvious order. I growl warningly, but continue on, my ears pricked up with a secondary purpose, now. It’s another ten minutes or so when I hear the hoot of an owl - the first real sign of life since entering the Twilight. I don’t stop this time, but I do allow myself a small smile. Before long, other sounds start to filter through: the hum of cicadas, the chirping of frogs, and a few other bird calls here and there. I start seeing more of them, too: an owl swooping across the path, a badger nosing through the underbrush, a pair of squirrels curled up together in their dray.

     About five minutes away from the Spring, Midna pulls me to a stop again, her expression cold and eerily calm when I glance back at her. “Can you hear it?” she asks softly. “The lamentation of the spirit?”

     I cock my head to one side, listening intently. For just a moment, I think that I  _ can _ hear it. It’s a sound somewhere between a wail and howl. A mixture of fury and pain. But it seems like a muddy sound, muted and warbly, fading in and out of my awareness. Midna tugs lightly on my ear, indicating with a jerk of her head that we should head off the path. I move as quickly and quietly as I can through the undergrowth, following her silent instructions until we’ve maneuvered so that we’re perched on the edge of one of the cliffs overlooking the Spring.

     Three shadow beasts patrol the clearing, each identical to the one I faced in Ordona. They stand surrounded by six pillars that look like they could be made out of glass, each covered in bright red runes. It seems strange, but I can feel a dark sort of power radiating from them. And am I imagining the shimmers of energy connecting them to one another? But the most significant part of the scene in front of me is the tight sphere of orangish energy, wrapped around a golden sphere of light struggling to break free. 

_ "Heathens! Monsters! Creatures of darkness!"  _ a male voice protests from within the sphere as the light seems to strain against it. I wince in sympathy.

     “The shadow beasts have trapped the light spirit using the magic in those pillars,” Midna whispers, leaning uncomfortably close to my ear and distracting me from the spirit's voice. “I’ll have to destroy them to free the spirit, since obviously you don’t know a thing about magic. So,” she smirks suddenly, “I’ll need  _ you  _ to take care of the shadow beasts in the meantime. There’s no need to take these little pests on one at a time, right? Just take them all at once! Good luck! Bye!” I blink, stunned, as she suddenly darts forward to the first pillar, red-orange magic flashing outward from her hands in a sharp burst and slamming straight into it. Of course, that also puts her right into the line of sight of the three shadow beasts, who, after recovering from their initial surprise, charge straight at her. 

     I bark as loudly as I can to draw their attention as I leap forward, aiming so that my paws slam into the frontmost’s shoulders, knocking him flat on his back and then leaping forward again, landing straight in the middle of the pool and as far from Midna as I can before turning to face them. All three of the shadow beasts shriek in rage, twisting to face me, Midna forgotten. Which was my intention, but now I have three over-sized gorillas with six extra-long five-pronged melee weapons between them. 

_ Great.  _

     I glance quickly around the Spring, searching for anything that might give me an advantage, but the shadow beasts don’t seem too keen on making things easy for me. One charges, forcing me to leap backwards to dodge him. I’m not accustomed to coordinating  _ four  _ legs in such a maneuver, however, especially almost knee-deep in water, so the movement is sloppy and I stumble when I land. Unfortunately, that means that I don’t quite manage to avoid the next wild slash.

     I grunt in pain as three new cuts are opened across my back, sending hot blood trickling down my side. I don’t leave him time for a second strike though, rushing forward and launching myself upward, snapping my fangs at the monster’s throat. He howls in rage even as I knock him backwards, overbalanced by his ridiculous mask. Just as I’m about to rip the thing off, my eyes are drawn to the second beast, its clawed hand flashing towards me. I barely manage to leap out of the way in time, my eyes widening in surprise and horror as the attacking shadow beast gouges open his companion’s chest and throat. From the spurt of blood that results, I know in an instant that he caught a vital point. 

_ These creatures would kill their allies to get to me? Why? Why would they do that?! _

     I risk a glance towards Midna. She’s managed to destroy two of the pillars, and seems to be making progress on the third, but there are still three others to go. Can I keep the last two shadow beasts occupied that long? The one in front of me snarls again, stepping over his fallen ally with hardly more than a glance. I carefully back away, conscious of the fact that I’m heading deeper into the water where it will be harder to move, my thoughts spinning. 

_ If you’re facing more enemies than you can handle, then try to manipulate the situation to where it’s one-on-one. Run and force the faster enemies to face you first, or play to their pride. Whatever you have to do to turn the odds to your favor. _

     Great advice, but I can't run through these energy barriers, and anyway, even if I  _ could _ run, that would leave Midna exposed, and right now I don’t have any way of communicating with these monsters, so trying to taunt them into a one-on-one confrontation doesn’t do me any good, either. I can feel my breathing picking up, no matter how hard I try to keep it even. I'm literally being backed into a corner, here! So what do I-?

     “Ugh, what’s the hold-up?” I glance up in surprise at Midna, floating in front of me with a wicked grin and a ball of magic crackling in one hand. “I suppose I have to do everything around here.” Her power flies forward, slamming into the second shadow beast. Red-orange magic snaps and crackles around the creature, causing it to go rigid as it howls in pain. A moment later, it collapses, unmoving. Midna’s grin widens as she summons another sphere of energy, floating towards the final shadow beast. The creature lets forth a howl, so intense and piercing that I whine in protest, attempting to cover my too-sensitive ears with my uncooperative paws. When I look up again, I can hardly believe my eyes. 

     The two shadow beasts that were already dead are rising from the water, the wounds on the first beast closing even as I watch. Just beyond them, my impish companion continues to advance on the third, oblivious to the danger. “You can’t scare  _ me  _ like that, monster,” she snorts, raising her hand to cast her magic once again. 

_ Look out! _

     Midna yelps in surprise as I knock her out of the air, just in time to avoid the swing of one of the undead shadow beasts. “Hey! What was that… for?” she trails off, her eye widening as she catches sight of them too. “Oh. Well. That’s unfortunate.” I just grimace at her, grab her arm loosely in my teeth and haul her out of harm’s way. “Oi, let go of me! I can walk, you know! Ugh, what a pain,” she grumbles, pulling free at the other side of the small clearing and rubbing my saliva off her arm. “So it looks like they can heal themselves, but then why didn’t they do it sooner? They waited until the last one shrieked before… Oh. Oh! It’s the shriek that brings them back! So if we take them out all at once, then they won’t have a chance to do it! So, do you think you can take out- What happened to you?”

     I try not to whine too audibly as her gaze sweeps over me. The shadow beast’s claw caught my back leg when I pushed her out of the way, and I can tell that this one is worse than the other three on my back. We’ve really got to finish this before I pass out from blood loss. Midna grimaces, obviously thinking along the same lines as she sits much more gingerly than normal on my back, apparently avoiding putting her weight on my injuries. “My magic isn’t strong enough to kill all three of them at once,” she mutters, “but it should be enough to stun them. Think you can take it from there?” I nod, pushing aside the wave of pain and nausea that accompanies putting my weight back onto my leg. “Okay then. Let’s go!”

     I rush forward, and the three beasts all snarl in surprise, hesitating just a second too long before raising their arms to strike. Midna’s power fires outward, striking the monsters simultaneously. Before they’ve hit the ground, I launch myself towards the first one, hitting its shoulders and crushing its windpipe in my jaws. I leap to the other two in rapid succession, snapping the second’s neck and tearing open an artery on the third. By then, the first has started trying to move, but without the ability to scream, it can’t bring its rapidly-dying companions back to life before Midna fires another energy blast right at it, knocking it down permanently. 

     I stand panting among the bodies of the three shadow beasts, trying to keep my weight off of my back leg. The world is starting to get fuzzy, probably from blood loss and possibly dehydration. I’ve passed out enough times in my life to know what it feels like, and consequently that I don’t have much time left. 

     “Well, that did it!” Midna cheers, seeming unaware of the way I stumble as I head towards shallower water. “Guess this means I can take my sweet time lifting the barrier now. Anyway, good boy, Linky. Wasn’t sure you had it in yo- Whoa!” She yelps, tumbling off of me when I suddenly collapse. 

     “Seriously?” I hear her groan as the world begins to go dark. “Fine. Get some rest. I guess you’ve earned it.”

* * *

     I open my eyes to a sea of white. I can’t see anything, I can’t hear anything, I can’t smell or taste anything. The only thing that seems even remotely real is the ground that I lie upon. Fog and mist swirl around me, shrouding any surroundings. I slowly push myself to my hands and knees, then to my feet and take a few cautious steps forward. The mist seems to move with me, keeping me blind to anything that may be around me. So I stop trying to move, instead turning on the spot, searching for any sign of life in this empty world. 

     Some sixth sense or other instinct causes me to stiffen, twisting suddenly to look behind me. I can't make anything out clearly, but just for an instant, I see a curiously familiar flash of gold amid the white. I step in that direction, seeking any other signs of movement. 

     Instead, I hear a calm howl.

     In a flash, the mist dissipates, rushing outward as though fleeing a dangerous enemy, and revealing in its place a golden wolf with a dead right eye, the left glowing red. Something clenches in the pit of my stomach as he stares at me, his one good eye boring into my very soul. It’s a sensation not unlike when I faced Ordona for the first time, like I’ve found myself before someone who deserves my deference and respect. And yet, there’s something unnerving about it, too. Something far more dangerous than the light spirit could ever be. 

     The wolf rises to its feet, a low growl building in its chest as it braces itself to attack. A thrill of panic surges through me as I take a half-step back. I have no weapons, nothing with which to defend myself. Before I have time to react, the beast leaps straight at me with a ferocious bark, its paws striking my shoulders and its red eyes filling my vision.

_ Red.  _

_      Everything is red.  _

_      Red fire, red blood, red eyes.  _

_      Rough hands drag me to my feet, tying rougher rope around my wrists and neck and shoving me forward. I try to struggle, but then I see a flash of red light reflected in a silver blade, pressed to her throat.  _

_      A line of blood, a trail of tears, and a thread of warning.  _

_      Then pain. Pain, pain, and more pain. But I can take it. I can take every beating they ever give me, for her sake.  _

_      But then they beat her, put their disgusting hands all over her, and I snap. _

_      Long-suffering becomes loathing, determination becomes destruction, and before I know it the chains that have bound me for weeks now tighten around our tormentor's throat.  _

_      Somehow his knife ends up in my hand. _

_      In seconds, my clothes, my hands, my world is stained red. _

_      Then a single scream pierces the haze of hatred, and in an instant all I can see is a pair of tear-filled, hazel eyes. _

_      Aryll-!! _

     The world jerks back into focus. Whatever happened just now didn't feel like my normal flashbacks. It felt more like when Princess Zelda forced me to relive some of my memories at Hyrule Castle, but more targeted. More specific. Perhaps that's why even though I bear no wounds from the wolf's attack, I can feel myself shaking. I gasp for breath, holding myself upright on one knee with a sword that I swear I didn't have before. 

     "I'd put that down if I were you, boy. It's worthless to you as you are now. A sword wields no strength unless the hand that holds it has courage."

     I stare in confusion at the stranger that has joined me in this white world. He's a tall man, dressed in ancient, mossy armor and bearing a broken shield on his right arm and a massive sword in his left hand. I can't make out his face clearly, but what I see of it seems skeletal, like some kind of monster. The only thing that I can see is his left eye, glowing red.

     Just like the wolf from before.

     "Who are you?" I ask as I slowly get my breath back. 

     "Someone who has waited many years for one such as you to appear. But I cannot say that I am impressed. You may possess an unbreakable spirit, but you are far from ready to become the hero of legend. All I sense from you now is fear: fear of taking a life, fear of losing your friends, and fear of losing yourself along the way. In such a state you aren't capable of saving anyone. You're just going to get yourself killed."

     "What's wrong with being afraid?" I snap back, a little irritated at his bleak assessment. "My father always told me-"

     "That warriors aren’t people who are never afraid, but people who can set aside fear to protect others."

     I blink at the stranger, stunned silent. "How did you…?"

     "True as that may be, there's a great difference in the kind of fear that keeps you alert of danger and the fear that cripples you, that keeps you from fulfilling your true potential.  _ That _ is the kind of fear I sense in you right now."

     I manage to hold his gaze for a few seconds longer before I glance away, a flicker of shame curling around my heart. I know he's right. In the battle against the shadow beasts earlier, I felt absolutely paralyzed by fear, utterly incapable of finding a way to beat the monsters. If Midna hadn't jumped in when she did, I would have been killed for sure.

     A gauntleted hand falls on my shoulder, forcing me to look straight up into the swordsman's eye. "So take action," he urges softly. "Become a warrior. Find the strength to overcome that fear. Then you will have developed true courage and become the hero for whom this world despairs. As that day draws closer," he calls over his shoulder as he draws back and walks into the mist, "and you continue to fight to save Hyrule from the horrors it now faces, you will become worthy to receive the secrets I hold. When that happens, I will call on you again."

     "Wait! What's your name?" I cry as the fog closes in and the white world begins to fade.

     He glances back one last time as he rests his sword on his shoulder, a faint smile touching his mouth, as though at a private joke. "You can call me Shade."


	11. Chapter Ten

      When I open my eyes, I’m nearly overwhelmed by the rush of sounds that accompany a new dawn. Birds adamantly staking their claims to their territory, squirrels scampering across tree branches, the quiet rustling of the leaves from a soft breeze. The first rays of the sun strike my eyes, and I grimace, lifting a hand to block the light while I try to remember my strange dream. There was a golden wolf, and a man named Shade, and somehow I had a flashback within the dream about Aryll and-

     Wait. 

     I jolt into full wakefulness, pushing myself into a sitting position as I stare in shock at my _human_ hand, covered in a supple leather gauntlet that extends up to my elbow, overlaid with a stiffer leather vambrace and marked with that same triangle symbol that I’d noticed on my paw as a wolf. But… where did I get it from?

      _“Morning, Linky!”_ Midna snorts in my head, and I can just imagine her doubled over in laughter. _“You're not going to_ believe _what you're wearing!”_

     I rise unsteadily to my feet as I give myself a once-over. I seem to be wearing a green tunic, belted around my waist and across my chest over chainmail and a long-sleeved white shirt, as well as thick riding pants and sturdy leather boots. There's a pouch and a waterskin attached to the belt around my waist and a heavy weight on my back that I soon discover belongs to the sword and shield we took - _borrowed_ \- from Ordon.

     I feel a twinge of guilt at that. Of course, if _we_ hadn’t taken the sword, the bulblins most certainly would have. And honestly, having met Princess Zelda, I don’t think she’d mind me using it right now. 

     Midna appears next to me in her shadow form, still giggling breathlessly. “Did you notice the hat?” she snickers. “That’s the best part.”

     I frown, reaching back until I feel a length of fabric and tugging it free from my head. The hat is conical in shape, and the exact same shade of green as my tunic. I guess I can see why Midna would find it so ridiculous. It probably looks a little bit like a lizard's tail hanging down from my head. Still, if only to spite her, I put it back on.

     “Geez, I guess fashion senses must be really different in your world,” Midna sighs, shaking her head at me. “Anyway, the light spirit will want to talk to you now that you’re up. You should thank him for healing you while you’re at it.”

     Oh. Right. I guess my leg and back don’t hurt as much as they should. I nod, she smirks, and then she disappears into my shadow as the pool ripples unnaturally. Just like at the Ordona Spring, the stones around the site have started to glow, the light sinking into the water before a sphere rises from the pool. This time however, my eyes aren't quite as sensitive as they were before, so I manage to watch all the way to the end as the light spirit comes into view in the form of a giant monkey, holding the sphere of light curled in its long tail. 

      _“Welcome, brave youth,”_ the spirit says in a calm, masculine voice - a stark contrast from how he’d seemed last night. He speaks in my head, the same way that Ordona did, his mouth never moving. _“My name is Faron. I am one of the four light spirits of Hyrule, tasked by the gods with the protection of this forest and the lands surrounding it.”_

     I bow slightly, placing my right hand over my chest in the sign of deference that my father once taught me. "I'm indebted to you for healing me," I say quietly. 

     _“Oh, so you_ can _talk? I was starting to think you might be a mute.”_

     Faron’s lips seem to twitch slightly, and I wonder if he heard Midna's snarky remark. _"No, brave one. It is I who am indebted to you for rescuing me from the hands of the shadow beasts."_

_"Um. Hello. I was responsible for at least half of the rescuing earlier; don't I get a thank you?"_

_"Link-"_

_"Oh fine, just ignore me."_

_"- I am sure you have many questions about what has transpired in the last two days. I may not be able to answer them all, but if you wish to raise any of your concerns now, I shall explain what I can."_

     My breath catches, and I feel the triangular scar on the back of my left hand tighten as I curl it into a fist. “Can I save them?” I whisper, the question that has been most on my mind since this whole mess started.

     Faron seems surprised, his eyes widening. _“You mean those taken from Ordon Village?”_

     “Yes.”

_“You doubt yourself?”_

     “…Yes.”

 _“Oh brave youth,”_ Faron sighs. _“Yes. You can save those you seek.”_

     "How can you be so sure?"

_"Because you possess an unbreakable spirit."_

     "What does that _mean_?"

_"It means that you are one capable of wielding the power of the chosen hero."_

     "Chosen? Chosen by who? And for what?"

_"By the Goddesses themselves.”_

     I blink up at him, stunned. Of all the answers I’d considered, that had most certainly not been one of them. Faron seems to smile, a flicker of sympathy passing through his eyes.

      _“Over the ages, this world has been threatened many times by the powers of evil, and each time, the Goddesses have chosen a hero to face that darkness. Now, it is your turn to bear that mantle."_

     “I… still don't think I understand. I’m… I can’t…” _I’m weak. I can’t even defeat the darkness in my own head, much less in the world._

_"Have faith, Link. In time, you will realize that you are more powerful than you could have imagined. Unfortunately, our time grows short. You must continue on to banish the Twilight from this realm. Travel to Death Mountain in Eldin Province. There-"_

_"Wait,"_ Midna interrupts sharply. _"There's something that I need to ask you about first. The Fused Shadows. Where are they?"_

     The light spirit stiffens. _"That is a forbidden power,"_ he says slowly. _"Long ago, the other spirits and I locked it away."_

_"So? Unlock it then."_

_"The nature of that power is such that it should never be touched by those who live in the light."_

_"Well then it's a good thing I_ don't _live in the light, isn't it?"_ Midna grumbles. _"Look, we both know that the whole reason you and the other light spirits were captured is because you were trying to contain the power of the Fused Shadows. You weren't strong enough to fight off the shadow beasts at the same time, so you were defeated and sealed away. Who's to say it won't happen again the moment twilight falls this evening? And if you're captured again it will be twice as hard to release you the second time. Besides, if we ever hope to end this permanently, we have to match the power of the King of Shadows. There's no other choice."_

     I glance back and forth between the light spirit and my shadow, where I know Midna is hiding. I can't say that I understand what they're talking about, but it certainly seems that this 'Fused Shadow' is a game changer of sorts, for good or for ill. If I want to have any hope of saving anyone, it sounds like I’m going to need it.

     Finally, with a weary sigh, Faron acquiesces, _"If you would seek this forbidden power, then proceed to the temple in the forest depths. But be careful. These woods have changed. Dark powers now hold sway over what was once sacred."_

 _"Yeah, that's what happens when you lock a Fused Shadow in a sacred place,"_ Midna snorts, unsympathetic. _"Well, let's go Mr. Important Hero. And before you nonverbally protest, remember you're still my servant, got it?"_

     I resist the urge to roll my eyes, bow briefly to Faron, then turn away just as he disappears in a flash of light, heading towards the path to the forest temple. 

      _“You do know where we’re going, right? Link? Ugh, remember what I said about the ‘strong and silent’ thing?”_

     “The forest temple.”

      _“Oh good, you’re not deaf. That was gonna be my second guess after mute.”_

     This time I actually _do_ roll my eyes, but I still ignore her, breaking into a light jog. If we only have until tonight to get this thing, then we’re going to need all the time we can get. 

      _“Ugh, is this how you treat everyone, or am I just special? You know seriously, if we’re gonna work together, I need you to talk to me, got it? Come on, can I at least get yes or no responses from you?”_

     “Yes,” I sigh.

      _“It’s a start. So, you know how to get to this ‘forest temple’?”_

     “Yes.” It’s been a little over a year since I last went there with Ilia, but I still remember the way well enough.

_“Great. Now for something a little trickier. How long have you been able to talk to animals?”_

     “No.”

_“I could do without the sarcasm.”_

     “I can’t talk to animals.”

      _“Then what was that before?”_

     “Reading body language.”

_“Huh. Guess that explains why I couldn’t understand a word of your occasional woofing. Although you didn’t do much of that either, come to think of it. Okay, next question. What was that black-out before in the pasture?"_

     I grimace, thinking back with dread to that horrible moment. It's not something that I want to recount to her in detail, but if we're going to be fighting together, then she should probably know the bare facts, at least. “I passed out.”

      _“For an entire hour? Does that happen often?”_

     “No.”

      _“How about for shorter?”_

     At that I hesitate, actually slowing down for a minute. I’ve had at least three flashbacks in the last two days, but before that I hadn’t had one for quite some time. Am I relapsing, or am I just having a hard time adjusting to this crazy new reality of mine? “I’m not sure.”

      _“What’s_ that _supposed to mean?”_

     “It means that my world doesn’t get invaded by otherworldly monsters very often. I don’t know how I’ll be affected by all this.”

      _“I guess that makes sense,”_ Midna grumbles grudgingly. _“Just… warn me if you know you’re going to collapse again, okay? I can’t have Mr. Important Hero dying on me, got it?”_

     “Okay.”

      _“You’ll actually do it?”_

     “Yes.”

 _“You mean it?”_ There’s a note of warning in her voice now.

     “My pride is less important than the lives of my friends.”

_“Hm. I guess I know how to motivate you in the future, then. So how long until we get to this temple place?”_

     “Two hours, give or take.”

_“Depending on what?”_

     “Depending on any dangers we run into.”

      _“Dangers like…?”_

     “Keese, chus, skulltula, and such, though they typically only attack if provoked. I suspect that won’t be the only danger, though. There have been rumors of bokoblins for years, and judging by Faron’s reluctance, I wager they’re true. And there may be more than that.”

_“Wow. That’s the most you’ve said to me in one go. Anyway, doesn’t all that make it hard for people to visit a temple?”_

     “It’s abandoned.”

      _“Sounds spooky.”_

     “Yep.”

      _“Your responses are getting shorter.”_

“You noticed.”

_“Did I offend you somehow?”_

To that, I simply sigh, vaulting a tree that fell across the path some time ago. It’s not that she’s offended me. I just don’t like talking. Especially while travelling into a forest that’s full of danger, since voices would likely forewarn any enemies to our presence.

      _“Alright, fine, I’ll shut up and let you run.”_

     It’s a relief to move in silence and just listen to the ambience of the forest. It’s the first _normal_ thing that’s happened in days. The first thing that feels truly familiar, despite the weight of the sword thudding against my back or the extra heat of the long sleeves and gauntlets or the sense of restriction I feel from wearing boots rather than sandals. It’s the first time I’ve actually had a chance to think about what’s happened to me, along with everything those events entail, without an immediate threat to my life or an order by a diminutive imp to charge straight towards one. 

     It’s also the first time in months that I’ve dreamed about that day, when that monster laid hands on Aryll. I used to have that nightmare every other night, intermingled with the attack and the destruction of our home. I can’t help but wonder if I’ll start dreaming of Ilia now, too, trapped in a bulblin’s harsh embrace, sobbing in terror, while I’m forced to watch, bound and helpless. 

     I pause as a wave of nausea hits me at the thought, leaning against the trunk of one of the many forest giants in Faron Woods before I take a deep, although shaky breath and push onward. That’s not going to happen. I’m not helpless this time. I’m going to save her. I’m going to save all of them.

     My first inkling that this is going to be a lot harder than I’d hoped comes about an hour into our journey. An oversized bundle of leaves trembles to my right, and before I can react, what appears to be a giant mouth launches straight towards me. I manage to jump back and get my arm up before it can latch onto my torso, but it still manages to clamp down around my forearm, and I’m suddenly grateful for the leather armor as I reach for the sword across my back, quickly taking in the situation.

     It appears to be a deku baba, trying to yank me back towards a larger cluster of the same plants that I can now see rearing up a short distance away. With a low growl, I draw my sword and slash downwards, severing the stem. A moment later, it goes limp, and I’m able to pry the teeth-like thorns free of my gauntlet and toss the remains away as I step decisively out of range. 

      _“Ooh, how brave. You saved us from a vicious plant,”_ Midna quips mockingly.

     “Shut up. Deku babas are carnivorous. Still, I’ve never seen one that big before. The worst I’ve ever encountered were only about the size of my hand, and their thorns were never sharp enough to pierce leather. They were nuisances, nipping at legs and ankles and leaving behind some of the worst rashes I’ve ever had, but that was it. They fed on small forest animals, like mice and sometimes birds if they get too close. _These_ are big enough that they would have ripped off my arm if I hadn’t been wearing armor.

      _“Maybe a different strain?”_

     “Maybe. Or maybe it’s an effect of the Twilight? Or this Fused Shadow thing?”

      _“I guess it’s possible. Either way, might I suggest having your shield ready in the future?”_

     “Yeah. Good idea.”

_“You admitted it. I’m impressed.”_

     “Admitted what?”

      _“That I have good ideas.”_

     “I never said you didn’t.”

      _“No, but you always seem reluctant to act on them.”_

     “That's because you never tell me them in advance; you just order me to do things.”

      _“Sorry. Force of habit.”_

     “What do you mean?” 

      _“Uh… Nothing.”_

     I frown as I continue onward, shrugging my shield into position as I skirt the edge of the baba patch. I guess if I want to keep my secrets, I have to let Midna keep hers, too. I’m still curious, though. Just who is this imp? She’s a creature of shadow trusted by spirits of light, and she has chosen to fight against her own kind for the sake of a world that isn’t even her own. She’s a magic user, sarcastic, impulsive, manipulative, yet judging by her earlier slip, accustomed to authority. I sigh wearily. She’s an enigma, that’s for sure.

     “Midna?”

      _“Hm? You’re actually initiating a conversation with me? It must be serious.”_

     “Not really. It just remembered what Ordona said earlier, about you knowing better than she does how to get rid of the Twilight. What did she mean by that?”

_“Oh. That. At a guess, I’d say she was referring to the fact that I was there when Faron was caught, so I had a rough idea of how the magical barrier was put into place and how to get rid of it, as well as their defenses. But unfortunately, I wasn't at any of the other Spirit Springs, so we’ll have to play it by ear from here on out.”_

     “Wait. Why were you there?”

      _“What, did you think I_ planned _to witness your transformation in Faron Woods? Nah, that was pure luck. Or maybe it was destiny or some other rot. Can’t say I really care.”_

     “You’re avoiding the question.”

_“Shoot. You noticed. Alright, fine, since the light spirits don’t seem to want to say anything, I’ll tell you the basics. The shadow beasts and I all come from a place called the Twilight Realm. It’s hard to describe it without you having seen it, but it’s like… a reflection of this world, draped in permanent Twilight. Anyway, it was a peaceful place for as long as I can remember, but then the royal family got usurped and the new king decided that he had some beef with the Realm of Light. So, when he opened up those portals to send his shadow beasts to trap the light spirits, I decided to hitch a ride, and it just so happened that I ended up at Faron Spring. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much I could do to fight back at the time, so I was just kind of wandering the forest, and happened across you right when you transformed.”_

     “So you’re loyal to the late royal family then?”

 _“Yeah, I guess so. Either way, the current King of the Twilight doesn’t deserve anyone’s loyalty. He’s a monster that only cares about himself,”_ Midna growls, her tone bitter.

     “…I’m sorry,” I say quietly.

      _“I don’t need your sympathy, Mr. Hero. I just need you to help me destroy him so we can save both our worlds.”_

     A grim smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “Deal.”

      _“Glad to find you can be reasonable from time to time.”_

     I just sigh, shaking my head.

      _“And… he’s back.”_

     The forest continues to grow more dangerous the further we go. We run into a couple more oversized deku baba patches, as well as a colony of keese that attacks us without provocation. Those take an embarrassingly long time to get rid of; it’s not easy to strike small flying targets out of the air with a sword. We also find a few giant chus, blue and red ones. I don’t mind them as much; since Midna had the foresight to grab a few empty bottles at my house, I’m able to fill them with their jelly once I’ve taken them out.

     “And we’re gathering up dead bug-thing juice, why now?” Midna frowned, peering over my shoulder in her shadow form.

     “Blue chu jelly is a natural painkiller, and can also serve to reduce fevers and inflammation when consumed. Red chu jelly is a topical treatment that staves off infection and speeds recovery.”

     “Huh. Wouldn’t have guessed by looking at them.”

     “Me neither.”

     “Then how did you know that?”

     “Ilia taught me.”

     “Ilia?” Midna smirks knowingly. “That your lady love?”

     I stiffen slightly as I press a cork into one of the bottles. I’ve been avoiding talking about my friends, hoping to dodge any questions about my past, but I responded so automatically…

     “Is that a blush I see?”

     “Don’t be ridiculous,” I grumble, rising to my feet and watching the bottle vanish in a flash of orange light as Midna snaps her fingers. 

     “She doesn’t know, does she?” the imp’s grin widens, her red-yellow eye sparkling.

     “I don’t want to talk about it.”

     “You never want to talk about anything.”

     “Yeah, well maybe there’s a reason for that.”

     “Care to share?”

     “No.”

     “Ugh. You’re impossible, you know that?”

     “Yes.”

     “Yeesh. I pity Ilia if she has to deal with you for the rest of her life.”

     “Shut up.”

     Midna laughs, vanishing into my shadow. _“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”_

     By the time we’ve reached the forest temple, I’ve managed to convince myself that the heat in my cheeks is just a result of the physical exertion of the journey. Midna whistles softly as I pause at the end of a bridge carved directly from the living branches of a massive tree rising out of the mist fifty meters or so in front of us. No one knows exactly how tall the tree is, just that falling from the bridge would definitely lead to instant death.

_“Is that the temple?”_

     “Yeah.”

      _“So what are you waiting for?”_

     “Bokoblins.”

      _“Hm?”_ She appears next to me, a frown curling her lips as she takes in the trio of purple-skinned monsters for the first time. “They don’t look like much of a challenge…” she muses.

     “No,” I agree, watching them squabble over some item of food or another, one of them taking a club and smacking his companions with it. “But still…”

     “Oh please, I watched you take on three shadow beasts as a wolf. These guys should be pushovers,” Midna rolls her eye at me.

     “Yeah. That’s the issue.”

     “Excuse me?”

     “Look, I don’t expect you to understand. I just-” Movement catches my eye, causing me to turn sharply to the left, snatching my sword from its sheath. My eyes widen, my guard faltering, as I’m presented by the sight of a shimmering, golden wolf with one red eye, gazing calmly at me. _Shade?_

     “Link? What are you staring at?” Midna frowns, glancing between us.

     I blink, turning my attention to her. “You… don’t see him?”

     “See who?”  
    Bewildered, I turn away from her, but when I’ve looked back, he’s disappeared. “No one, I guess,” I say slowly. 

     “…This isn’t a sign that you’re about to pass out again, is it?” I level a glare at her and she raises her hands defensively. “Just had to check, that’s all. So, you ready to face those things?”

     I glance up towards the forest temple entrance, my grip on the sword in my hand tightening as the memory of my strange dream comes flooding back to me. _‘A sword wields no strength unless the hand that holds it has courage. All I sense from you now is fear. In such a state you aren't capable of saving anyone. You're just going to get yourself killed.’_

     Bokoblins are viciously territorial, with a level of sentience hardly above an animal’s. There’s no way to reason with them. If I’m not prepared to fight, then I will die here, and if that happens, then everyone I love will pay the price. I can’t afford to hesitate now. 

     “Yeah,” I say quietly. “I’m ready.”


	12. Chapter Eleven

     The bokoblins don’t even notice my approach until I’m practically on top of them and their little campfire. As they scramble to reach their feet, I rush towards the one that already has his club in his hand, slashing the monster’s throat open with a single strike. I spin away from him before I can focus on his expression of shock or the spray of blood flashing through the air, thrusting my sword into the one at my left’s stomach even as I raise my shield to block a belated strike by the club of the one to the right. I have to use my shield to shove him back rather than immediately striking with my sword, however. The angle is too wide for me to bring it around quickly enough to prevent a counterattack. Disadvantages of being left-handed in a predominantly right-handed world. Of course on the flip side, it means he has no idea how to block me when I do pivot towards him, my sword whistling as I slash upwards, across his stomach. The bokoblin gurgles and collapses, eyes bulging, and leaving me to release my breath in a sharp gasp, panting heavily as the sword drops to my side once more, dripping blood.

_ “Nice work,”  _ Midna whistles as I walk unsteadily towards a low stump a few feet away. I sit down on it rather heavily, struggling to control the trembling in my hands.

     “Not really. They weren’t much of a challenge. And anyway, I’m pretty rusty after four years.”

_ “Didn’t look that way to me. You cut them down pretty easily by my viewpoint.” _

     “Can we stop talking about it? Please?” I beg, searching for a cloth in my belt pouch to wipe off the blade of the sword. I’m actually a little surprised when I find one. Pure white, only to be stained red the moment it touches my hand.

_ “What is it with you? I kind of understood why you freaked out about killing people as a wolf - I wouldn’t want blood in my mouth either - but you must have worked hard to become a swordsman. I mean really, if this is your level after four years without practicing, you must have been a monster back then.” _

     “Yeah. I guess I was,” I murmur, staring at the red-soaked cloth.

_ “Uh, I mean… You know I meant that as a compliment, right?” _

     “Yeah. I know.”

_      “Didn’t sound like it. Don’t you take even a little pride in your skills?” _

     “No. Not anymore.”

_ “I sense a story that you’re not going to tell me.” _

     “You’re learning.”  

_      “Nah, I never learn. I just gripe. I’ll wear you down eventually.” _

     I shake my head wearily, but I can’t help but smile just the same as I rise to my feet and head towards the entrance of the temple. Ilia was like that, too. She wasn’t pushy the way Midna is, but she was easily just as persistent. I guess we’ll see how much she manages to get out of me by the end of this little adventure. 

_      "Please tell me that's not what I think it is…" _

     "That's not what you think it is," I reply dryly, stepping up to the giant spiderweb covering the entrance. 

_      "Not helping." _

     "It's a skulltula web. Bigger than most, but not abnormally so. On average the spiders grow to the size of my hand. The biggest I've seen was bigger than my head."

_ "You didn’t mention that skulltulas were spiders."  _

     “You didn’t ask.”

_      “Fine, then I’m asking in advance: is ‘enter-monster-name-here’ a spider? In the future, tell me these things, got it?” _

     “I got it.”

_      “Good. So… If those monster plants have grown in size, you don't think the spiders have too, do you?" _

     "Let's hope not. One bite from a skulltula can paralyze a person already. Too much could stop your heart."

_ “Heh heh… Yeah, let’s hope not. So are we going to cut the web or not?” _

     “No, my sword would just stick on the resin. However…” I turn back towards the bodies of the three bokoblins, as well as their little campfire, now scattered and sputtering across the old, carved cobblestones. I take a deep breath to steel myself before I walk over to it, scooping up one of the logs that’s only burning on one end to use as a makeshift torch. Then I walk back to the web and gently touch the flaming end to the fibers. They go up in seconds, and I allow myself a nod of satisfaction. “The sticky resin in skulltula webs is highly flammable,” I explain quietly, stepping back while the remainder of the web burns away. “It’s the best way to avoid the risk of encountering the spiders themselves, too. The smoke puts them to sleep.”

_      “Let me guess. Another tip from Ilia?” _

     “No. This one we figured out together.”

_ “And just what were the two of you doing around giant spiders that can paralyze a human with a single bite?” _

     “Gathering the venom.”

_ “For what?! Is she some kind of witch making potions?” _

     “Poultices, actually. Ilia’s an amateur healer.”

_ “Why the heck would anyone need spider venom to  _ heal _ someone?” _

     “She wanted to try a new anesthetic that she’d read about. In small, controlled doses and mixed with other ingredients, skulltula venom just slows down body functions rather than stopping them. It forces a state of unconsciousness that slows the spread of disease and poisons in the bloodstream.”

_ “Ya don’t say…” _ Midna sighs.  _ “I’m starting to understand why you like the girl. This Ilia sounds just as crazy as you are.” _

     I manage a quiet laugh as I step through the cleared entrance of the forest temple, holding my improvised torch in front of me. “She’d be insulted to hear that.”

_ “Yeah?” _

     “Yeah. She’d rather hear that I’m as crazy as she is.”

     Midna snorts, though she still sounds tense. She must  _ really  _ not like spiders. I blink as I scan the entryway, allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness. A short, winding hallway opens into what was once a wide receiving hall, assuming that I remember my last visit here accurately. Which I might not, considering that it seems a lot darker than before. I seem to recall that the last time I was here, there were openings lining the walls close to the ceiling on either side of the hall, allowing streams of sunlight to pour into the room even when it changed positions. But now its pitch black, leaving me walking cautiously forward into the shadows. Maybe somewhere there are other torches I can-

     A sharp rustle is the only warning I receive before a deku baba launches out of the darkness, an actual  _ tongue _ lashing around my left arm arm and yanking me towards it. 

_ What the-! _

     I grunt in pain as thorns or teeth or both scrape against my arm along the slender space between where my vambrace ends and the chain mail begins, barely managing to keep a grip on the torch in the process. Unable to reach my sword, I dig my heels in and switch the burning piece of wood to my right hand, striking it against the deku baba's head. The plant-creature hisses and recoils, and in the few precious seconds that it's mouth is open I instinctively thrust forward again, stabbing my makeshift weapon straight into it. 

     There's a sizzle and a hiss, but no scream as the plant doesn't seem to have grown vocal chords before it goes up in flames, momentarily illuminating the area around us, including a patch of oversized leaves surrounding a stone basin full of liquid. My eyes widen slightly in recognition.

_ Great. The oil trough is surrounded by man-eating deku babas and my torch is going out because I stuck it in a plant's mouth without thinking. Guess I have to move quickly, then. _

     As the flames around the first deku baba sputter and begin to die, I wedge my torch between two cracked flagstones, draw my sword, and rush forward. Three deku babas rear their heads in response, lashing blindly outwards. I present them with my shield so that when they launch forward in the same pattern as the others I’ve faced, they only thing they manage to grab is the edge of the wood. I quickly slip my right arm free of the straps, leaving them to fight over it, completely oblivious to the arc of my sword slashing through their ropy stems. 

     My hands have started shaking again when I reclaim my shield, my heart pounding faster than it should under the circumstances. I grit my teeth as I sheath my sword, snatching up the sputtering torch and walking over to the oil trough, then thrust the flames against the still liquid. They instantly flare up, rushing to fill the entire basin and filling the air with acrid smoke from the rancid oil while bolstering the flames of the torch itself at the same time. I quickly step back, coughing into my sleeve as I watch it rise into the air, my hands clenched to try to keep them from trembling. 

     There are three other oil basins in the room, fortunately without the plant monsters this time. Once they’ve all been lit, I’m able to take in the room with greater detail. I quickly discover that the reason why it’s so dark in here is that the windows have been completely overgrown with thick vines matted with spiderwebs. 

     “Midna, you may want to close your eyes,” I say slowly as I watch the webs seems to shift lazily in response to the thickening smoke.

_ “Dude, I’m a freaking shadow right now. I  _ can’t _ close my eyes!” _ she snaps, obviously tense.

     “Then just… don’t look up, okay?”

_ “A little late for that!” _

     I smile slightly, my gaze sweeping through the room. This was once a receiving hall where people could leave their prayers to the goddess Farore. When Ilia and I were here before, we found the little wooden plaques inscribed with those prayers lining one of the walls. We also quickly discovered that there are three doorways leading out of this room, but we never figured out how to get them to open. Not that it seemed to matter at the time. We weren’t interested in exploring the temple. We just wanted some skulltula venom.

     I walk towards the rightmost one now, half concealed behind a screen of ivy. In the torchlight, it looks exactly the same as when I left it: tan stone encrusted with dirt, marked by a strange swirling design. When I attempted to move it before, I tried to shove, slide or lift it open somehow, but none of those worked. Maybe there’s just too much dirt encrusted around the edge. If I wipe it off, then maybe-

     The moment the fingers of my left hand come into contact with the old stone, a jolt of energy surges through me, causing me to recoil with a hiss of pain. That weird scar on the back of my hand seems to burn, and at the same moment the swirling symbol on the door begins to glow. I stumble back, eyes wide as there’s a rumble and a groan of stone against wood, then the door begins to move on its own, rolling open to allow a cold breeze to flow from the dark passageway beyond. But instead of walking through it, all I can do is stare, dumbfounded.

_ “Whoa. How’d you do that? Can you use magic?” _

     “I… don’t know,” I whisper back, staring down at my left hand. Does this have something to do with the power of the chosen hero that Faron mentioned? Or something else? I guess it doesn’t matter though; there are more important things to worry about, like finding the Fused Shadow before nightfall. I take a deep breath to steel myself before I step into the room, also dark except for a single shaft of light, shining in from another round doorway on the other side of the room. 

_      Strange. I wonder why that was left open? And what’s that weird sound? _

     It’s difficult to identify, but whatever it is, it sends chills up my spine. There’s something dangerous here. Something hiding amid the vast network of webs that I can barely see in the darkness, covering the ancient wooden staircase that I’m standing alongside. There are strands all around me, threaded across another pair of stone lanterns, blocking any way forward. I’ll have to burn it all off if I want to keep exploring this area, especially if I want to avoid the risk of getting bitten by skulltulas, even though there’s a risk of lighting the likely-rotting staircase on fire as well. With a slight grimace, I light the oil in the troughs, simultaneously putting the labyrinth of webs to the torch. 

     The flames rush across the room, leaping from web to web and illuminating my surroundings in a flare of brilliant light, from the rooms leading off of the spiral staircase to the vines climbing through the windows to the bundles of webbing dropping from the ceiling to the spider the size of a horse and bearing the white markings of a skulltula, fleeing the flames with a speed that belies its size, chittering sharply, its body language seething with fear and anger, all eight of its eyes fixated on me. 

     Midna curses in a language I don’t recognize as the monster rushes towards me, forcing me to drop the torch and draw my sword in its stead, diving into the newly-cleared space to my right in order to avoid the spider’s lashing legs. By the light of the fires, I defend against the monster, flinching as its barbed legs flash past my cheek. 

_      Calm down, Link,  _ I order myself sternly as I dodge another strike.  _ Think it through. The legs and pincers are its weapons. Legs are long-range and highly mobile. The pincers are short range and have limited movement, but are more dangerous because of the venom. Does it have weak points? Blindspots? Behind and underneath. I have a shorter weapon, so I need to get in close, but still avoiding the pincers. Come on, think! Find an opening! _

     I dodge strike after strike, trying to maneuver around the beast, but eight independently moving legs make for great mobility and defense. That means I’m going to have to make my own opening to attack. As one of the legs flies towards my face again, I dodge left, slashing quickly and cutting off the tip of the appendage as the spider pulls back again. It’s not much, but it does cause the beast to recoil, its limbs instinctively retracting towards its body. In that moment, I race forward, darting past its defenses. As it snaps with its pincers, I drop and roll underneath it, stabbing blindly upwards with my sword. The skulltula shrieks and reels back, wounded but still very much alive. I scramble to my feet just in time to block another bite, thrusting around my shield once again. This time, I manage a lucky strike directly into one of the spider’s eyes, and when it retreats, I press forward rather than letting it put distance between us, grunting with the effort of driving my sword deeper into its head.

     I hold the sword there for as long as I can before one of its flailing legs catches me in the stomach and throws me against the railing of the wooden stairwell. I grimace as I force myself back to my feet, keeping my distance until the skulltula grows still. 

_ “That was less graceful than your normal victories,” _ Midna notes.

     “Shut up, I told you I was rusty,” I grunt back, running a hand over my chest to check for cracked ribs. Nothing feels broken, but I’m definitely going to end up sporting a few bruises. “And anyway, I’ve never had to face a giant spider before.”

_      “Excuses, excuses. Now then, you should probably fetch your sword. Make sure it’s dead first; I don’t want you to get bitten.” _

     “I’m not completely useless, remember?”

_ “I guess I did say that. So you  _ were _ listening. Don’t make me regret it, okay?” _

     “Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, smiling faintly.

     I collect the torch first, using it to light the oil in the four other stone troughs around the room before the last of the light produced by the fires dies away. Then I pull my sword from the skulltula’s body before I taking a look at the bundles of webbing that fell from the ceiling when the webs initially began to burn. They vary in size; one is about as big as I am, while a couple of others are maybe the length of my arm. Strangely, these fibers aren’t sticky, which is probably the reason why they didn’t catch fire. Curious, I cut the closest one open, ignoring Midna’s exasperated protests about wasting time. My stomach clenches and I lean back in surprise when I’m met by the bloated face of a bokoblin, its eyes glazed in death. 

     “Oh, gross,” Midna grumbles, appearing next to me and shuddering. “I guess even giant spiders need to eat. Speaking of, aren’t you hungry yet? You didn’t exactly keep down the last meal you ate.”

     “Oh. Yeah, I guess I didn’t. Honestly though, I don’t think I want to eat right now. Not after seeing something like this.”

     “Fair point. But you should at least drink something.”

     “Fine,” I agree, pulling the waterskin from my belt and taking a long swig. Actually come to think of it, I am pretty hungry. I was just too focused on my task to notice. “How do you think he even got in here?” I ask to distract myself, rising to my feet and turning away. 

     “I’d guess through the open door,” Midna shrugs back, jerking a thumb towards the opening to the right of where I’d entered. “Now, how he managed to climb the tree is another matter. Do you think he’s a buddy of the three you fought outside?”

     “Maybe. I don’t know why he would have tried to come inside, though. You don’t think they’re looking for the Fused Shadow too, do you?”

     “From what we saw before, I doubt they have the mental capacity for such a thing. But who knows? The world is full of sur… Hey Link, is that thing moving?”

     “Huh?” I follow her pointing finger to one of the smaller bundles of webbing, which does indeed appear to be twitching. I quickly cut into the fibers, then rip the cocoon apart, careful not to injure whoever might be inside. A small hand covered in white hair quickly shoots out of the small space, and I’m a little bit startled to find a young monkey climbing on my arm, squeaking and trembling as it clings to me. Most of her body is covered in gray fur, but she still has the soft white around her hands and tail that mark her as a baby. A smile quirks the corner of my mouth as I gently brush a finger down her back. She’s obviously had quite the scare. “Well, hello, little one,” I murmur, smirking as I tug off a small flower that got stuck to her fur with a strand of web. It would look like a hair ornament if it weren’t so lopsided.

     “Oh come on, you get friendly with a monkey  _ instantly _ , but it took over twenty-four hours for you to say so much as a word to me?” Midna grumbles, peering curiously at the little creature. 

     “I was a wolf, remember? I couldn’t speak.”

     “That’s no excuse. You wouldn’t have said anything anyway.” 

     I shrug. Considering how long it took for me to speak to anyone in Ordon Village, she’s probably not wrong. 

     “I seriously don’t get you,” the imp sighs. “Anyway, we should probably ditch the animal and move on. I’m not sensing any kind of magic over here.”

     “I want to look around a bit more.” 

     “Why?”

     “Just at a glance, I’d guess that all those little doorways in the wall are bedrooms, which makes this area the residential portion of the temple."

     "So?" 

     "So, it’s also probably where they keep the administrative offices. If there’s a map of this place, it’ll be there.”

     “Fine. Be quick.”

     After a quick glance out the open doorway to make sure I’m not missing anything important, I turn to the sealed door on the other side of the room. On a hunch, I press my right hand against the stone first, and when nothing happens, I switch it for the left. Immediately, I feel that strange energy rush through me, then the swirl in the center of the door glows softly and the stone rolls aside. 

_ "That was… weird?"  _ Midna offers as I step into this new area. 

     "Yeah," I agree absently. It’s dark here, too, but dark in a different way. It smells musty, like damp and mold. Were I to guess, this section of the temple has no windows whatsoever. 

_ "And anyway, why is that  _ thing  _ tagging along?" _

     I glance over my shoulder at the little monkey hanging onto my back, her hands clutching my sheath, her tail wrapped loosely around my neck. I shrug. "She's not doing any harm. Who knows? Maybe she'll help us out."

_      "Yeah, because there's no reason whatsoever for people to call goofing off 'monkeying around'." _

     "It’s rude to stereotype."

_ “Ugh.” _

     “You’re griping again.”

_ “Yeah, whatever.” _

     I lift my torch a little higher, trying to see a little further into the darkness. As I glance around the room, I realize that there is an oil trough embedded in the wall around the entire perimeter. Once lit, it illuminates the entire room, revealing a termite-riddled desk and chair, a water-damaged painting of a forest, piles of papers long destroyed by mold, and a moth-eaten curtain leading into an adjacent room. Curious, I walk into the next chamber, where a larger, less damaged desk sits in a dark corner, and beside it a rotting chest that practically crumbles under my touch, revealing within a ring of old keys. I tuck them into my belt pouch, just in case, then turn on the spot, scanning the rest of the dark room. I blink, surprised, when I spy the curling edge of vellum on the wall beside the doorway, where I couldn’t see it walking in. As I step closer, a smile spreading across my lips as I see a map detailing the various sections of the temple.

_ Jackpot. _

     As I had suspected, I now stand in the residential portion of the building, while the other doors in the main hall lead to the major worship areas of the temple. By the look of things, the structure extends across multiple trees connected by bridges, one of which is entirely dedicated to the kagura performances dedicated to the Goddesses. There are two others as well, one containing the fountain for ritual washing and anointings, as well as the auxiliary shrines to Nayru and Din, and the last containing the treasury, oratory, and the principal shrine to Farore. At a guess, I’d say that’s where we need to go, but I might as well get a second opinion.

     “Hey, Midna?”

     “In here.”

     I peer curiously back into the previous room, where the little imp has taken to floating in front of the painting, her head tilted thoughtfully to one side. “What is it?”

     “Don’t you think this looks like you?”

     I move to stand beside her, frowning up at the ink painting. It’s difficult to make out details with all the damage, but now that I take a second look, there is more to it than just a forest. A single, massive tree seems to dwarf the scene, the knots and ridges of its bark almost forming a face. At the base of the tree stands a sword with a guard shaped like wings. And next to the sword…

     “Wow,” I murmur, peering a little closer. 

     “Yeah, that’s what I thought. He even has that goofy hat.”

     “But… that’s not possible. Is it?”

     “You tell me. Either way, I doubt it’s  _ you, _ you, given how old the painting is, but I guess it could be one of the heros that was around before you. Of course, I guess it doesn’t really matter, right? They’re not the ones having to fight now; we are.”

     “…Right.”

     “So? What did you want me for?”

     “Oh. I think I may have figured out where the Fused Shadow could be.”

     “Oh?”

     “Look at this.”

     She follows me into the second room, then listens thoughtfully as I show her the different rooms on the map. “Yeah, it could be there,” she agrees slowly when I suggest we try looking in the main shrine. “The spirits locked away the Shadows to control their power. It would make sense for them to do so in the room with the most Light. That would be the surest way to contain them.” A fierce grin tugs at her mouth, exposing her extra long fang and causing the little monkey to press a little closer to me in the process, squeaking nervously. “Good eye, Linky. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! SO sorry that I didn't post last week! I had a family emergency that threw me off my schedule. I'm going to do my best to catch up this week, but I did just start a new job, so that might cause some delays. Apologies in advance!! Anyway, thanks for sticking with me thus far! As always, feel free to ask me questions/make comments! I'm always happy to hear from you!


	13. Chapter Twelve

     It doesn’t take much for Midna to stop griping about the monkey, quickly dubbed ‘Rosie’ for the sake of convenience. A normal-sized skulltula -  _ “How can any spider as big as I am be considered ‘normal’?!?”  _ the imp had protested - managed to sneak up on us without our noticing. If it hadn’t been for Rosie’s warning, I likely would have been bitten. She continues to prove invaluable as an early warning system as we push onward, a couple of times against wall-growing deku baba, and several times against other skulltulas. Suffice it to say that when we finally take a break to eat a much-needed meal after clearing the fountain room of a dozen giant deku babas and another skulltula bigger than I am, even Midna admits that the little monkey has earned a treat, upon which she offers her a few berries summoned from her magical inventory.

     “So? Where to?” Midna asks, watching as I take my last bite of goat cheese, tomato, and collard green sandwich. An odd combination, but surprisingly not terrible. 

     “The main shrine is across another bridge, through that door.”

     “Oh, joy,” Midna sighs. “Hopefully this one will be in better shape than the last. Let me tell you, being half-thrown onto mist as a shadow because your foot went through a wooden slat was  _ not _ a fun experience.”

     “So wait, does that mean you’re literally my shadow in that form? And you feel it when I move?”

     “Eh, yes and no. It’s not like I feel the ground or anything. I’m pretty insubstantial in this form, actually. The only way I can interact with anything is through magic, as you may have noticed. But I do get this weird sense of vertigo when there’s a sudden change in your shadow’s position. It’s kind of nauseating, actually.”

     “That’s… odd.”

     “Yes, yes it is. Now, can we please get a move on? We’re on a time limit, remember?”

     I climb wearily to my feet and snatch up the torch, leading Rosie to squeak with apparent alarm, dropping the remnants of her strawberry and scaling my leg to reclaim her perch on my back. I allow myself a faint smile, then make my way to the next door. Just as with all the others, the moment I touch it, the rune starts to glow, and the stone rolls itself out of my way, leaving me blinking in sunlight as I step outside. 

     “Well. This should be interesting,” I muse as I take in the bridge connecting this tree to the next one. 

_ “No kidding,” _ Midna groans. 

     It would appear that this bridge was crafted by weaving together the branches of the tree I’m currently on and the tree that I’m attempting to reach. In truth, it’s a clever idea. As the branches continued to grow, any gaps left in the weaving were closed, creating a solid platform. However, since the branches were still alive, they continued to produce new branches in places where they weren’t always wanted. Furthermore, other plants took advantage of this secure foothold in the sky and now moss, ferns, and vines are also taking over the space. Hopefully, there are no oversized deku babas in the mix, too. When this temple was still being run, the priestesses probably cut off the extra branches and kept the area clear of unwanted growth, but after so many years of abandonment, the bridge now looks like a forest unto itself, with a steep drop on either side should I lose my footing, and a stiff, near-constant breeze to boot. Hopefully that won’t put out the flame of the torch. 

     “On the positive side, at least my foot shouldn’t be going through any rotted boards.” 

_ “Yeah, because there are no boards to speak of, dummy. If you’re going to state the obvious, at least make it a valid point.” _

     “…At least there are plenty of handholds?”

_      “Better.” _

     I take a cautious step forward, very aware of the slippery moss covering the bark. Then another, and then another. Before long, I’ve made it halfway across, using the protruding branches when necessary to maintain my balance. I don’t have a fear of heights, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to act like an idiot in order to prove it. And considering my boots have

lost their grip on the mossy surface at least twice in that distance, I have no regrets. Midna and I heave a collective sigh of relief when I reach the other side without incident. 

_ “I’m gonna be honest, given how the rest of this place has been, I really thought that would be harder.” _

     “Don’t say things like that. It’s asking for trouble.”

_ “Fair. Oh… too late. The door’s locked,”  _ Midna groans. 

     “If that’s all it takes for you to give up, then I need a new partner.”

_ “Whoa, whoa, whoa, that’s taking a joke too far, Linky. And anyway, you going to tell me you… have… the keys. Of course you do,”  _ she sighs as I pull the ring out of my pouch and smirk down at her hiding place.  _ “You shouldn’t get in the habit of taunting your shadow, you know.” _

     “Like talking to myself is any better.”

_ “I’m just saying, do that in public and everyone will say you’re crazy.” _

     “What else is new?” I shrug, trying out the first key on the lock. 

_ “Hm? So I’m not the only one who thinks you’re insane?” _

     “You’re surprised?”

_ “No.” _

     On the third key, the rusty lock clicks reluctantly open, and I pull it from the myriad of chains holding the door in place before slipping the keys back into my pouch. In the process, my fingers brush against something that I hadn’t been expecting to feel: something hard and textured. Surprised, I pull Ilia’s charm into the open, something floaty turning in my stomach. 

_ “Oh. Yeah, I figured you’d rather hold onto that than let me keep it. Forgot to tell you with the whole stupid hat thing.” _

     I lick my lips briefly, my mouth suddenly very dry. “Thanks.”

_ “Hm? For what, insulting your hat?” _

     I decide to overlook her snide comment, instead tucking the charm back into my pouch and pressing my palm to the well-worn stone. A wave of cold, wet air hits my face as the door rolls open, accompanied by a sound that sends Rosie perking up instantly. She scrambles off my shoulder and rushes ahead of us, squeaking with excitement. 

_ “What’s got Rosie all riled up?” _

     “Her family, I think.”

     My assumption is proved correct as I step out of a short tunnel into the new chamber, where the first sight I’m greeted by is a family of monkeys clambering amid the vines on the left side of the room, two of which - probably the mother and a sibling - are rushing to meet Rosie as she leaps from ledge to ledge towards them. 

     “I feel a little weird saying this is sweet, but… it kind of is,” Midna frowns, appearing beside me to watch the little reunion. 

     “Yeah,” I smile slightly. If not for this weird residual wolf ability to read body language - not that my interpretations are as clear in this form - I probably wouldn’t have thought twice about  it. But now, I can see the lingering fear, the pain, and the overwhelming relief in their movements as the mother gathers Rosie into her arms and the sister grabs them both as if unable to contain herself. They have an actual family dynamic. It’s… thought-provoking. If even animals treat one another as families, then would monsters do the same?

     I quickly shake my head, ignoring the sudden churning in my stomach. I can't afford to think like that. It will only distract me from what I need to do.

     “So, where do these lead?” my companion muses, surveying the room. The windows here aren’t as badly blocked as in other rooms, so I can see even without the aid of the torch in my hand. It would seem that this tree has been partially hollowed out, whether by time or by man, I can’t be sure, but at a glance, it would seem that the shaft reaches all the way to the base of the tree. There are four doors placed at right angles all around the room, connected by a cross-shaped bridge of the questionably-sound slatted variety. I take in their positions, thinking back to the map in the administrative suite. 

     “The right hand door should lead to the private chapel. On the left is the treasury, and straight ahead leads to the main shrine.”

     “I vote we check out the treasury first.”

     I turn a baleful eye towards the imp, and she instantly lifts her hands defensively, her red eye wide and a little too innocent. “What? It’s on the way, and if by some off-chance the Fused Shadow  _ isn’t _ in the main shrine, wouldn’t the treasury be the next most likely place to hide it? Oh please,” she grumbles as I continue to frown dubiously at her, “do you really think so little of me? I’m just trying to cover all our bases.”

     “I thought you could sense the Fused Shadow’s magic.”

     “Well, yeah, but-”

     “Are you sensing it in the treasury?”

     “Uh-”

     “Besides, you yourself pointed out that the main shrine is the most logical place to hide the Shadow if the spirits had intended to suppress its power.” This time, Midna doesn’t protest, she just turns away, her mouth twisted into a pout. I hide a smirk as I take a cautious step onto the rickety bridge. I think the message is pretty clear judging by the way she sighs, practically radiating disappointment, and melts back into a black puddle at my feet. 

     I’ve almost made it across when I hear the ominous groan beneath my feet. Then comes an almost simultaneous  _ snap!  _ and the next thing I know, my stomach has flown up and ejected my heart into my throat and my hands are snatching at something -  _ anything _ \- to stop my fall.

_ “Link!” _ Midna cries in something resembling panic as I manage to grab the edge of the bridge, grunting in pain at the jolt that flashes down both of my arms, my heart pounding wildly and my stomach roiling in protest as I stare at the torch rapidly disappearing into the void beneath my dangling feet. I grimace as a stream of curses in a language that I don’t understand run through my head; I wish that imp would be quiet and let me think. 

_ “Well excuse me for being concerned!!” _

     Whoops. Did I say that out loud?

     I glance up, shakily registering that the rope holding up one side of the bridge has snapped under my weight, leaving me in this sorry predicament. The other is still holding on, but I can’t know for how long, now that it’s holding up twice the weight that it’s meant to carry on its own. There’s no way that I can get back safely, so I’ll have to continue forward. Climbing on top of the bridge is out of the question, so I’ll just have to make do with moving hand-over-hand. And I’ll have to do it quickly. The bridge wasn’t exactly designed with hand-wide gaps between each slat, and my fingers can’t take the weight of my body for much longer. 

     Grimacing, I reach forward and grip the rope of the bridge as far out as I can reach. Another grunt of discomfort escapes my lips as I swing out as far as possible and grab again. If I can manage the same distance another three times without the bridge breaking, then I should be able to make it across. Another grab. And another. So far, so - 

_ SNAP! _

     I’m already swinging forward when the bridge breaks, so instead of riding it downwards, I simply let go, letting my momentum carry me forward and slam me against the opposite wall of the tree, instinctively snatching at the vines running everywhere. Somehow, I manage to pull myself to a stop, gasping for breath, a strange throbbing sensation running up my left arm. I glance up once again, taking in the distance to the ledge. The longer I stay here, the more likely I am to fall. Ignoring the pain throbbing through my hand and chest and arms, I climb upward, forcing all thought out of my head and concentrating solely on the rhythm of  _ reach, grab, pull, repeat. _

     Thankfully, there are no more incidents as I scale the vines. The moment I pull myself securely onto the ledge, I roll onto my back with a weary sigh, allowing my eyes to slip closed. “Well,” I mutter, “that was exciting.”

     “Seriously?! That’s  _ all _ you have to say?! You scared me half to  _ death _ you idiot!!”

     I open my eyes again and smile knowingly up towards the shadowy figure floating over me. “I knew you cared,” I mutter, closing them again.

     “Don’t flatter yourself; I already told you I need you to save my world, remember?” Midna huffs. “Besides, you’re my servant; I can’t you dying on me!”

     “Yeah, yeah.”

     “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

     "Oh, hey there, Rosie. Don't worry; I'm okay."

     "Really?! You're just gonna ignore me for the monkey?!"

     I can't help the smile that tugs the corners of my mouth as I reach up and gently rub the neck of the little creature that has joined us. She relaxes, her eyes brightening slightly at my reassurance before chittering happily and scampering back to the wall - and her waiting family. I watch her go, then turn my gaze to my simmering companion. "I'll be fine, Midna," I grunt, grimacing as I roll onto my side and push myself up to my knees. 

     “Linky, you must’ve hit your head on the way down earlier if you think that you’re ready to keep going. Sit down and stop trying to get yourself killed.”

     “I’ll be  _ fine _ .”

     “You don’t  _ get _ it do you!? The Fused Shadows aren’t like other magical items. Each of them has a consciousness of its own! Why do you think the monsters in the temple have gotten so big and so prevalent, huh? It’s because it’s trying to protect itself! If you go charging in there at anything less than your best, its power will overwhelm you! You  _ will _ die! Then what’ll happen to my people, huh? What’ll happen to your friends?”

     “So these things are alive?”

     “I wouldn’t go that far,” Midna sighs, “Any level of consciousness that they possess is even less than an animal’s, but they do have a sense of self-preservation at least. That’s why, without someone or something harnessing and guiding their power, they run completely rampant.”

     “How do you know all this?”

     “Uh… I-I was close to the royal family, remember?”

     I frown slightly, but I don’t press the matter. Still, if her relationship to the royal family is the only reason she can come up with for her knowledge of the Fused Shadows, then that would imply that such information is something of a state secret in her world. Just what kind of authority did she possess there? I slump back against the wall with a weary sigh. My head is throbbing too much to try to figure this out right now. Almost subconsciously, I slip my hand into my pouch to finger Ilia’s charm. 

     “Midna, can I have the chu jelly?”

     “You mean the dead bug juice? Sure.”

     I spend the next half hour carefully applying the red jelly to the scrapes and bruises covering my arms, as well as drink a small dose of the blue. Midna shudders at the face I make, but the pain killer starts to kick in shortly afterwards, rapidly lessening the throbbing in my head, arms, chest, and legs. Once my companion has stowed the medicines away, I climb back to my feet, placing my hand against the door so that it rolls aside. The tunnel on this side seems considerably darker now that I no longer have my torch, but at least there’s sunlight at the end. Still, I don’t quite manage to escape unscathed; I stumble in an unforeseen dip in the floor, catching myself against the wall with my left hand.

     Then I promptly flinch back when the wall quite literally lights up under my hand, the same way the doors do whenever I touch them. 

     “Huh. It’s you again,” Midna muses, appearing next to me.

     I blink in surprise at the glowing carvings in the living wood of the tree. They depict the same figure that we saw in that painting, kneeling before a larger-than-life woman in a flowing dress. There’s a triangular symbol, identical to the scar on my hand, carved above their heads, with lines etched around it to give the impression of light coming off of it. Next to it, I see the same figure holding a sword with a guard shaped like wings above his head, surrounded by six others, each with a different symbol on his or her chest. One looks a lot like the Hylian crest, and another is the same swirled design that keep lighting up on the doors of the temple, but the others I don’t recognize. A third carving shows the swordsman engaged in combat with another man, while a girl stands to one side. That triangle symbol hovers over their heads, a different section of it glowing for each person. 

     The last carving, positioned closest to the exit, seems to draw Midna’s interest the most. The figure that looks like me has disappeared now, leaving the six figures from effigy number two with custody of the man that he defeated, standing before what looks like a mirror. The imp seems fascinated by it, tracing the carving with one paw-like hand. 

     "Could that be it?" she murmurs, more to herself than to me. 

     "The Fused Shadow?"

     "What? Oh no, a Fused Shadow looks nothing like that. It's just a legend among my people, but it looks like the same legend might exist here, judging by the carving. Kinda cool, don't you think? Anyway, let's keep moving. And try not to light anything else up, okay? We can’t afford any more distractions.”

     I glower at her as she disappears back into my shadow. It’s not like I’m  _ trying _ to light everything up around me. It’s this strange power in my left hand, or maybe it’s the triangle scar that appeared when I first entered the Twilight. I really should have asked Faron about it earlier, but I hadn’t been thinking about it then. I’ll have to do so after we’ve retrieved the Fused Shadow. 

     The bridge that I find at the end of the tunnel is covered in at least as much foliage as the previous one that had connected two trees, but at least it’s not likely to fall away beneath my feet. I’ve had enough of those bridges to last me a lifetime. The door on the other side is a little different from the others that I’ve encountered. It’s bigger, and the lock and chains holding it in place are of an equivalent size. There’s something else too, something that I can sense as I get closer to it. A darkness, like the ill will directed towards someone on a battlefield. Whatever it is, I know that it’s dangerous. 

_ “You can feel it too, huh?” _

     “Yeah.”

_ “Be careful, Linky. I’ll never forgive you if you die.” _

     “Noted,” I roll my eyes slightly as I pull the keys out of my pouch once again and fit the largest into the lock. It clicks open with surprising ease considering its exposure to the elements, falling to the floor with an ominous  _ thud,  _ the chains rattling as they fall limp. I press my hand to the door and it rolls open with a reluctant groan, allowing a putrid scent to waft into the open. I grimace, covering my mouth and nose as the gas hits my face, then drawing my sword and shrugging my shield onto my arm in anticipation of what’s to come. With a final, steadying breath, I make my way into the tunnel, my eyes constantly shifting in an effort to pierce the darkness. 

     An ethereal glow seems to pervade the room when I step out of the tunnel. I’m not sure where it’s coming from, considering that there’s no hint of sunlight anywhere, but it provides sufficient light for me to make out what used to be a vast, beautiful fountain, with three waterfalls pouring into it, and balconies where the priestesses could stand and preach to the people. Now though, the water seems murky, almost purple in color, with fumes rising off of it. More than likely, that’s the source of the horrible smell. 

     “What am I looking for here?” I mutter eyes flicking around the room as I slowly walk forward.

_ “At a guess? Something big and dangerous.” _

     “Thanks,” I grumble, barely keeping the sarcasm out of my voice as I glance towards the ceiling in case of over-sized skulltula. When I glance down again, I pause, frowning. Were the fumes off the lake always this thick? It feels like a fog is rising around me, up to my knees in an instant. Confused, I take a step back, and the purplish smoke seems to scatter before the movement, splitting and flowing to create a pseudo-path leading directly to a still form, collapsed on the ground. 

     “H-Hey, are you alright?” I call uncertainly, hurrying forward. 

_ "Linky?" _

     I ignore the imp, dropping to one knee beside the figure. Judging by size, it’s probably a child, but why on earth would a child be here? How would they have gotten here? Then again, that bokoblin somehow got inside, so maybe it's not impossible. The child lies facing away from me, so I gently take their shoulder and roll them onto their back. 

     "No. No,  _ Goddesses  _ no!" I cry in a panic as I lift the child into my arms. "Colin! Colin, wake up!"

     There's blood soaking his chin and chest and the moss where he'd been lying. His blue eyes are glazed and lifeless. 

_ "Oi, Linky, are you about to pass out again?!" _

     Goddesses. Oh Goddesses, there are more. Malo, Talo, Beth, Saria and others, so many others, all dead, all because I was too late, I couldn't protect them, I couldn't-

     "You did this."

     My head whips around, clutching Colin's body even tighter to my chest at the sound of the voice. My mouth goes dry as a new figure steps out of the mist, short, but broad-shouldered, red eyes dark and glazed, but accusing, horrible bruises purpling the green skin of his throat while dried blood soaks his leather armor around the slash over his heart. 

     "No," I whisper. "You… you can't be here."

     "Why not?"

     "You're dead!" 

     "Exactly. Don't I have the right to confront the man who murdered me?"

_ "Link! Snap out of it!" _

     "And now look! Look and see who else you've murdered!"

     "No. No, I would never-!"

     "You weren't there to protect them. Isn't that why they're dead? Doesn't that amount to the same thing as holding the blade yourself? Besides, how do you know it  _ wasn't  _ by your hand? This wouldn't be the first time you lost control, now would it?"

     I can't breathe. Goddesses, I can't breathe. It's my fault, they're dead because of me,  _ I _ killed them, it's all my-

_ Smack! _

     I gasp, shocked from my spiral of panic, staring in confusion at the figure that has appeared before me. Short blond hair, bright, angry green eyes, and a white tunic stained with red at her left hip, her hand still raised from having slapped me, a reddish light sparking around her fingertips. "I-Ilia?"

     "What? No, it's me, idiot! What the heck is wrong with you, numbskull?!"

     "Midna?!"

     "Duh, who did you think you were talking to?! I mean talking to your shadow is one thing, but this is just ridiculous!"

     I stare at her, utterly bewildered, then up at the bulblin still leering at me, then at the bodies scattered all around me, still half-shrouded in purple mist. "You can't see them," I realize. "They're not real."

     "I still don't know  _ what _ you're talking about, but yeah, let's go with that. Man, I  _ really  _ hope that this is just the Fused Shadow and I'm not gonna have to deal with this on a regular basis."

     “Not real? Come now,  _ murderer, _ do you really think you can get us to leave with such a childish assertion as that?”

     I set my jaw and lower Colin’s fake body to the ground, forcing my trembling fingers to curl around the hilt of my sword.  _ Shut up. _

     “Oho, have I struck a nerve, murderer?”

     I push myself to my feet, forcing myself to breathe the way Ilia helps me to whenever I have a panic attack.  _ You’re wrong. They’re still alive. I can still save them. _

     “You,  _ saving _ people? You who can only destroy? You, who  _ slaughtered  _ me and my brothers?”

     “Shut up!” I yell, slashing forward. The moment my sword hits him, he vanishes in a burst of purple mist, leaving blessed silence in his wake. 

     “Whoa. Okay, are you  _ sure _ you’re alright, Linky?” Midna frowns, coming to float next to me. She looks like herself now, albeit still a shadow. 

     “Y-Yeah,” I gasp. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll be fine.”

     “Are y-”

     A splash and a roar interrupt her, causing both of us to whirl around and face the behemoth that has suddenly burst out of the water  behind us. It a three-headed giant deku-baba plant, except that any one of these heads could swallow me whole in a single bite. The two on either side resemble the plants most closely, but the fangs and tongues protruding from their mouths are definitely more bestial than floral. The thing in the middle, however, definitely takes the prize for “most creepy”. In addition to the fangs set into its too-wide mouth, its tongue has an actual  _ eye _ attached to the end of it - an eye that stares right at me as the thing shrieks its challenge at me. 

     “Hey Midna.”

     “Yep?”

     “Am I imagining that thing, too?”

     “Nope.”

     “Great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all! I'm back! Sorry it's been so long. School starts this week, so I probably won't be able to promise weekly updates anymore, but I will do my best! Thanks for your support so far!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Carrie_Poppins here! So this is an idea that I've had swirling around my head for years, but never worked up the courage to actually write. It's basically intended to be the way I imagine Twilight Princess if it were turned into an actual book. I will be taking LOTS of liberties with characters, lore, and the story itself, so if that's not something you enjoy, then I wouldn't recommend reading this fic. However, if you do, rest assured that I will be doing my bes to make this exciting! Hope you enjoy my little headcanon version of Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess.


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